Now and Then
by ShirleyAnn66
Summary: Beck was rebuilding the country and his life, growing closer to Heather as he did so. And then his missing wife is found.. (Posting old fics from AO3 over here as well.)
1. Part One: Now and Then

**A/N:** Words can't express my gratitude for my beta, seren_ccd, for going above and beyond to beta this story for me when she had way more important (and fun) things to do – especially since I was so slow in getting this story written and sent to her.

 **Warnings:** Non-graphic descriptions of attempted rape, torture and violence. Strong language and non-graphic sexual situations.

 **Spoilers:** Pretty much everything in the series (including the comics) is fair game.

 ***/*/*/*/***

 **Part One: Now and Then**

 _Now - November 2008_

Heather immediately knew something momentous had happened from the look on Beck's face when he rushed into her office. As she rose to her feet she began to run through the possibilities (Constantino? The President? A new outbreak of HRV? Ravenwood? The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?) and how quickly she could activate the various contingency plans.

"They found - they found - " he stammered and stopped, for once at a loss for words.

Heather blinked, trying to get her racing mind to shift gears, trying to think of who could have been missing. The President was always surrounded by security and Jake and Hawkins hadn't left town in weeks. So that meant Jake and Hawkins couldn't be the ones in trouble...for a change. What they were getting up to while they were _in_ town was anybody's guess.

Heather shook her head and refocused on the issue at hand. "Did something happen to the perimeter patrol?" she asked, her brow furrowed in thought. "Who was out -?"

" No, no, no - my...my - _Leyna_ \- my wife - they found her in a refugee camp in Louisiana -"

" Oh. My. _God_ ," Heather breathed. The blood drained from her face and her eyes became so huge they seemed to take up her entire face. She sat suddenly, her knees giving out on her.

Beck watched her, his posture rigid. Written all over his face was a confused array of emotions: joy, relief, excitement...loss. Regret.

She understood.

Heather licked her lips, and stuttered weakly, "Th-that's wonderful." It would have been more convincing, she was sure, if she hadn't been choked with tears, and if she could have kept looking him in the eye as she said it.

With an effort she stood, came out from behind her desk and threw her arms around him. He buried his face into her shoulder and held her tight. She felt his tears scald the skin of her neck.

"They'll be here in the morning," he managed.

"I'm so happy for you," she whispered, trying to ignore the sick pain uncurling in her stomach. This moment was not about her - it was about Beck and the fulfillment of his most cherished dream. She loved him enough - she could be _big_ enough - to be happy for him.

Even if her heart was breaking.

*/*/*/*

 _Then - November 2007_

The night was cold and calm, cloudless. Even in the moonlight, the stars were brilliant and appeared so close, Heather felt she could simply reach through the windows and pluck them from the sky. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps and smiled in the semi-darkness as Beck approached her. He would have looked as remote as ever in his army uniform and boots except he was carrying two plates of cake and two beers as he made his way towards her in the dim light of the anteroom. The food and drink somehow humanized him, made him seem like just another citizen of the town and not someone who'd once declared them insurgents and imposed martial law.

"You finally made it," she smiled as he came to a stop by her side.

He nodded and offered her a beer and a piece of cake before settling himself beside her. They ate for a moment in silence.

" _Beer_ and cake?" she finally asked lightly.

Beck shrugged, but his sidelong glance was amused. "Not the best combination, I know, but it was either this, some of Mary's moonshine, or Stanley's home-made wine."

Heather grimaced, the look on her face saying it all. Then she said diplomatically, "To be fair, he's improving."

"Would you like me to get you a glass of that instead?" Beck asked, perfectly deadpan.

" _No!_ "

He grinned at that and she shook her head, chuckling as she ate another bite of cake.

"So," he said casually, "why are you sitting in here by yourself?" He nodded towards the noisy party behind them. "You're missing all the fun."

"I just wanted a break," Heather shrugged, concentrating on her cake.

"It's not because you're having a tough time watching Jake and Emily celebrate their wedding?"

Heather chuckled. "I was maid of honor, remember?" She shook her head. "No, not a problem - and I'm looking forward to dancing some more after lunch." She slid a teasing sidelong glance at him. "Maybe I'll even manage to convince _you_ to dance, Major Beck."

Beck hid a smile behind another bite of cake. "Is there a pool among the women in this town as to whether or not I'll take to the dance floor tonight? I've never been so popular before."

"Lots of invites?"

Beck nodded. "And one or two were even just to dance."

Heather choked on the sip of beer she'd just taken. He kindly patted her on the back as she coughed. She stared at him, her eyes luminous in the moonlight streaming through the windows.

"Better?" he asked solicitously.

She continued to stare at him, a puzzled frown now wrinkling her forehead. "Did you just make a _joke_?" she asked incredulously.

He gave her an arrogant look. "Maybe I'm just stating the facts."

"Well, you don't need to look so smug about it!" she blurted as he took another bite of cake.

He turned to face her, eyebrows raised, his eyes dark and warm in the moonlight. Heather's gaze dropped to his lips as he slowly pulled the fork from his mouth, sucking it clean. Her breath caught in her throat and she was suddenly extremely aware they were, for all intents and purposes, alone in the dark. The noise of the party in the hall behind them faded into the distance as she watched his mouth. She flushed furiously when she forced herself to look away and met his wickedly teasing eyes.

He quirked a half-smile and her eyes dropped back to his mouth again. She swallowed.

"It's flattering," he murmured, his voice warm silken honey stroking across her jangling nerve endings. She shivered. "But I haven't accepted any of the invitations." His voice lowered even more seductively. "Yet."

If possible, her eyes got even larger. She nervously licked her lips. "W-why not?" she stammered, and bit her lip in embarrassment at the breathless tone in her voice.

"Because the right woman hasn't asked me," he replied simply in that same seductive tone. She watched, fascinated, as he leaned closer. " _Yet_ ," he breathed as his lips settled gently against hers.

His mouth was firm, warm, and he tasted of chocolate and an indefinable flavor that Heather realized was just... _him_. She sighed and opened her mouth to him, an invitation he accepted, but only for a moment, his tongue lazily sweeping across hers before he pulled away after one last nibble on her lower lip.

She stared hazily at him, stunned, her lips slightly parted. He took a bite of cake and gave her a lazy smile.

"Eat your cake," he urged gently.

She blinked, blushing even more hotly, and turned her attention back to her plate.

"So _is_ there a pool?" Beck asked with great interest after a few moments of electric silence.

Heather bit her lip then nodded. "I - I think so. I heard some women talking -"

"You're not a part of it?"

She shook her head. "For some reason I don't think they thought I'd play," she said drily.

"Or maybe they knew it would be a sucker bet," he murmured as he finished his cake and put the empty plate on the table behind them. He took a sip of beer as he watched her take another bite of cake.

"Sucker bet?" Heather frowned distractedly. She was dimly aware of the band starting up again in the hall behind them, but her mind was still on the kiss they'd just shared. She'd feel guilty later, she decided, but she was curious as to why Beck, the devoted husband and father, had chosen to kiss her.

Heather squeaked in surprise when Beck took the empty plate from her hands, tugged her up into his arms and whirled her gracefully out onto a bare patch of floor in the anteroom. Or as gracefully as he could while he was wearing army boots.

"Sucker bet," he confirmed. "After all," he murmured, the ghost of his breath across her ear making her shiver and her fingers involuntarily dig a little deeper into his shoulders. "When have I ever said no to you?"

She closed her eyes as they swayed to the music and fought the urge to moan with pleasure.

Instead she sighed, "What's gotten into you?"

He pulled back slightly and frowned at her. She met his gaze steadily, although she was obviously trying to puzzle out this strange behaviour. "Don't get me wrong," she hastened to clarify, "I - I like it! I haven't really danced to a slow song since I moved to Jericho, and I haven't been kissed since -" she stopped and bit her lip, flicking her eyes towards the hall where the noise of the wedding party was swelling again now that lunch was over and the band had restarted.

Beck glanced over to the hall door before meeting her puzzled eyes, eyebrows raised in enquiry.

She blushed then shrugged sheepishly. "I once kissed Jake - he avoided me for a month. And that was that."

Beck's eyebrows inched higher.

" _You're_ not going to ignore me now, are you?" Heather half-teased.

Beck's half-smile faded and he was suddenly very, very serious. "We're deploying in forty-five minutes," he said.

They stopped moving as Heather stared at him, the blood draining from her face.

"I added an extra hour to the departure time so I - we - my troops - could say good-bye. I may very well not speak to you for a month - or longer - but it's not intentional."

Heather blinked against the burning tears in her eyes. She suddenly realized she was clutching his upper arms, her fingers digging into the flesh beneath his uniform sleeves. His arms tightened around her.

"I didn't come here intending to kiss you," he said, his voice low and urgent, "or to dance with you - but I'm not sorry. May my wife forgive me, wherever she may be. But I didn't intend this to be some...some...love 'em and leave 'em...thing."

That penetrated her dismay. She blinked at him then relaxed slightly. "Some love 'em and leave 'em _thing_?" she teased weakly.

"I'm trying to make a point here," he grumbled.

Their tension eased and they started moving slowly again as the song merged into another ballad. "I never thought you intended to string me along," she said slowly.

Now it was his turn to tease. "String you along? We sound like we're living in the forties!"

"Yeah, the 1840s," she said, then added wryly, "not far off, actually."

He buried his face in her hair as he laughed softly, hugging her close. With a sigh, he set her away from him, his hands on her shoulders as he looked seriously at her. Now he was the Major Edward Beck she knew so well. Stoic, serious, remote and all army.

"I have to go soon," he said. "You've been an excellent liaison and my closest friend. You've supported me in a million ways in my dealings with Jericho, the ASA and in searching for my wife and daughter. I - I appreciate everything you've done for me, personally, for my troops, and for Jericho. I hope they truly realize how much of an asset you are to this town. I didn't intend to - to -" He pressed his lips together and glanced guiltily away. He sighed and met her eyes again. "I only intended to tell you we were leaving and to say good-bye. Then I was approached half a dozen times to dance before I even managed to find you, and - okay, maybe there was a little of that desire to not go to the front lines without...without a kiss and a dance with a beautiful woman."

Heather blushed, flustered. "You could have gotten both from...well, anybody."

"I doubt I would have enjoyed either of them as much."

She tried to smile. "Well, that's flattering. In an odd sort of way."

Beck tightened his grip on her shoulders. "I have to go," he said softly.

"I know," she said. "Can you tell me -?"

He shook his head. "The less you - or anyone else in Jericho - know, the better off you'll be. Now, listen to me," he said urgently, giving her a slight shake. "I want you to let Hawkins help you - _listen_ to him. When the ASA comes here looking for answers, they'll zero in on you. You need to protect yourself. You need to have a plan."

"We've been planning for months," she reminded him.

He sighed. "Yes - to protect Jericho. I'm talking about protecting _yourself_. I can at least have some peace of mind knowing you have Hawkins, and Jake - hell, the entire town - to protect you."

"But who will protect them?" she asked.

His mouth opened and closed, then he shook his head. "I have to go." He dropped his hands from her shoulders. "I _have_ to go."

"I know," she said. She placed her hands against his chest, leaned up and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was chaste, and short and neither made the effort to deepen or prolong it, although it took every ounce of self-control Heather possessed to keep it that way.

"Now I really have to go," Beck sighed huskily.

"I know," she said again and stepped away from him.

She walked him to the door and with one last lingering look, Beck left the hall. She stood outside, shivering, and watched him until he was swallowed up by the darkness. She continued to stand there until she heard the sound of engines driving off into the distance.

*/*/*/*

 _Now - November 2008_

Jake rushed into Beck's office and skidded to a halt in front of his desk.

"Really?" he demanded, his dark eyes wide and excited. "They've been found?"

Beck leaned back in his chair, deliberately casual. His effort to appear relaxed and calm was lost on Jake, who simply gave him his "you're talkin' bullshit" look. Beck smiled ruefully and nodded. "Leyna, yes," he said. "No word about Elje, but I'm hoping Leyna will be able to tell me -" his gaze fell. "Give me a lead," he said squaring his shoulders.

Jake's charming, crooked grin lit up his face. "I'm happy for you, man," he said. "Truly." He stuck out his hand. Beck shook it gratefully, his own smile getting wider.

"Thanks, Jake."

"So! How are you getting ready?" Jake asked, rubbing his hands together.

"How -? I'm sorry?"

Jake laughed. "Heather was right! She figured you were probably not thinking of the mundane details. You know," he added helpfully at Beck's blank look, "clothes, food - shelter?"

Jake laughed even harder at the consternation on Beck's face. "Hell, you can't expect her - Leyna? - to camp out with you in that damn tent!" Jake shook his head.

Beck flushed. He hadn't been thinking straight since he got the news. After he left Heather and returned to his office, it had taken him forty-five minutes to read a simple report because he kept staring off into space, anticipating - and dreading - the reunion in the morning.

Now he was being taken to task for not even thinking about where they were going to live after tomorrow morning. And being taken to task by Jake Green, of all people. "I - I was going to deal with all of that when I got off duty tonight," Beck muttered, embarrassed.

Jake's eyes took on a mischievous gleam. "Don't worry about it," he said. "Leave it to me." He turned and quickly left Beck's office.

After a stunned moment, Beck leapt to his feet and hurried after him. "What are you up to?" he yelled after Jake's retreating back. Jake just gave him an airy wave and didn't even bother to turn around.

*/*/*/*

 _Then - August 2007_

Beck had a ritual. First thing each morning he looked at the picture of his wife and daughter before placing it carefully in his helmet. He looked at it again last thing at night before he placed it on the stand beside his cot. And every spare moment was spent making phone calls, calling in favors, searching for his lost family and praying that today, _today_ he would find them. As he geared up for the coming conflict, though, he had less and less time to follow up with his contacts, to touch base with his network of informants, to remind people to be on the lookout for these two individuals, lost somewhere amidst the displaced millions.

Needles and haystacks often came to mind.

He hung up the phone after another fruitless call and slumped back in his chair. He tried to ignore the voice telling him to give up; they were likely dead if he hadn't found or heard from them by now. He picked up his helmet and stared at the picture, asking the familiar and dearly missed faces to send him a sign. He wanted his wife back. He wanted his daughter back. He missed them so much it was a constant dull ache periodically interspersed with the sharp agony of fear and grief. No matter what he did or what crisis he faced, the fact his family was missing was never far from his thoughts. Some days he knew it was only his devotion to duty that kept him sane. As more and more time passed, he had to fight harder to keep his hope alive.

They were out there - he knew it. He could _feel_ it. And he'd believe it until proven otherwise.

"I'm going to keep looking for you," he murmured now to his only picture of Leyna, caressing her face with his eyes, tracing the curve of her cheek, the shape of her mouth. He reminded himself of the sound of her voice, her laugh, the look in her eyes while they made love, the feel of her mouth and hands on his skin. "I'll never give up," he vowed.

"Never give up on what?"

Beck started and stared at Jake.

"Don't you ever knock?" he snapped.

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Technically, this is supposed to be my office since I'm still sheriff," he said, "and actually, I did knock." He glanced at the helmet in Beck's hands. "Whatever's in there had you completely enthralled."

Beck flushed but didn't drop his gaze. He tightened his lips and placed the helmet down on his desk, hiding the picture from Jake's curious gaze. "What can I do for you, Jake?" he asked leaning back in his chair.

"I think this may be more what I can do for you," Jake replied. "I've got a lead on a cache of guns and ammo - a big one. It's being held in one of the caves about three hours from here."

"How sure are you about your source?"

"I trust my source. Whether I trust my source's source - that's a different question."

Beck's lips twitched, then he nodded and stood. "I'll get some soldiers and come with you."

"Thanks. I didn't want to face this group with just the Rangers." Beck raised an eyebrow in question. "Ties to Constantino's gang," Jake elaborated, "and possibly to two or three others in the area. It's gonna be a battle to get the stuff."

"Isn't it always?" Beck said.

Ten minutes later a small fleet of humvees was on the road with Jake and Beck alone in the lead vehicle.

"Thanks for the humvees, too," Jake said after a moment of silence. "I didn't want to have to scrounge for vehicles and have Heather give me the safety lessons for Charlotte again."

"Charlotte?" Beck frowned.

"Her truck. Although she's made quite a lot of headway with it. I understand you no longer have to worry about it blowing up if you leave it running too long."

Beck's lips twitched again and his mood lightened like it always did when he thought of Heather. "That must be a comforting thought."

'Yeah - for everyone within eyesight of the bloody thing." Jake hesitated, looking at Beck as he drove. "What were you talking about? In your office?"

Beck took in a deep breath through his nose and held it. He forced himself to relax as he let the breath out slowly. But he didn't answer and he didn't look at Jake.

Jake gestured at Beck's helmet which was sitting on the seat between them. "May I?" he asked.

Beck hesitated then gave a short, sharp nod. Jake turned the helmet over, and looked in silence at the picture tucked into the crown of the helmet. Finally he said, "They're beautiful."

"Yes," Beck said simply.

"They're missing?"

Beck nodded. "They were in Santa Fe when the Attacks happened. I haven't been able to trace them since."

"Did you go to Santa Fe yourself to look for them?"

Beck glanced over at him, wondering if he'd imagined the faintly accusing tone in Jake's voice. All he could see was honest curiosity. "I've been a little busy. You know, trying to stabilize and rebuild the country," Beck replied drily.

"So - no."

"No. My duty to the country came first. Besides, by the time I got back stateside after the Attacks, they'd disappeared."

Jake frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. "Do you have any word at all as to when they were last seen, or -"

Beck shook his head. "Nothing. Leyna - my wife - had taken Elje to Santa Fe to visit family. My in-laws, and Elje's father and his parents. I haven't been able to gather any intel on them, either. That's not quite true," Beck corrected himself. "About two months ago, I had a report that Elje's father had died in some little town in New Mexico I'd never heard of before. That was about two months after the Attacks, and he'd apparently been alone." Beck shrugged. "For all I know, it wasn't even him - just someone with the same name."

Jake absorbed this in silence. "Why didn't you go to New Mexico yourself? The _real_ reason, I mean."

"I asked to be reassigned to a battalion there but the request was denied," Beck admitted. "I couldn't simply _go_ \- we had enough enlisted soldiers going AWOL; officers had to stay the distance no matter how tempting it was to take our guns - hell, take our troops! - and just find and protect our families. Besides, we had - literally - millions of people looking to us for help. Needing relief." He again glanced at Jake. "Looking to us for hope. Besides, while we were pretty forgiving when enlisted soldiers went AWOL, for awhile -" he stopped, his lips tight.

"For awhile -?" Jake prompted after a moment.

"Officers who went AWOL were punished... _severely_ once they were found again. We didn't look - but if we found them... _well_." Beck lapsed into frowning silence and concentrated on his driving.

Jake pondered this in silence, but to Beck's relief he didn't press for details. Instead, Jake said, "Would you like us to go to New Mexico? See if we can find their trail for you?"

"Who's "we"?" Beck asked suspiciously.

"Me. Hawkins. Maybe a couple of the others."

Beck hesitated, considering the offer, then reluctantly shook his head. "Jericho's going to need you at any moment," he said. "When we make our move, the ASA is going to come down on every town where we were last stationed. I hope my allies are getting their towns' defenses in place the way Jericho is, but I somehow doubt they have a Jake or a Hawkins in their corner."

Jake huffed a laugh. "You might be surprised. Heroes are made in these circumstances -"

"And so are villains."

Jake suddenly grinned. "But none of us are flying around in blue tights and a red cape."

Beck paused for a moment, frowning, trying to shift mental gears. Then he half-smiled. "Superman was born a hero. You're thinking of somebody like Spiderman - and he didn't have a cape."

"Batman had one," Jake laughed as Beck shrugged and conceded the point. Then Jake sobered. "The offer's there, Beck."

"I know - and thank you. You have no reason to offer your help. Not to me."

Jake considered this in silence and Beck knew he was remembering hot lights, exhaustion, desperate thirst and screaming muscles. Jake finally shrugged and looked out his window. "Heather would want me to help you," he said simply.

Beck shot a quick glance at his profile. "And we always seem to do what Heather wants, don't we?" Beck said ruefully.

"Well, she does have a way of looking at you like you're ten feet tall and bulletproof and you're just waiting for an opportunity to show your true heroic colours."

Beck's hands tightened on the wheel. "Makes it difficult to say no," he said mildly.

"Impossible, more like it." Jake sighed. "Funny. I can say no to Emily and never break a sweat. Heather? I feel guilty for days - and then I end up doing what she wanted anyway." He glanced over at Beck with a rueful look. "How about you?"

Beck laughed. "The only time I said no to her, I was completely in the wrong. It didn't take days to feel guilty - I was looking for evidence a half hour after I threw her in jail." He shook his head. "Those eyes of hers should be declared lethal weapons."

Jake nodded and slouched down in his seat. "Yeah. I guess we should just be grateful she's on our side."

*/*/*/*

 _Now - November 2008_

"Major," the President said, amused. "You seem distracted."

Beck looked up, startled, then glanced guiltily from the President to Hawkins. Hawkins simply looked amused. Beck flushed. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I have no excuse -"

"Oh, I've heard differently." The President watched him shrewdly. "Your wife?"

Beck smiled almost bashfully as he nodded. For some reason, his usual respectful demeanour with the woman sitting across from him had deserted him.

"How long has it been?" the President asked.

"Almost three years," he said. "I'd been deployed to Iraq," he elaborated at the President's puzzled frown. "Once we knew about the Attacks, we were brought back as quickly as possible, and - well, it was chaos."

The President nodded, her eyes dark with memories of her own. "I remember," she said quietly. "Those first few days - weeks - when nobody knew which cities had been hit and which ones still survived -" The President shook off her memories and smiled at him. "I'm sure you'd like some private time to spend with her," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, "but -"

"No buts. You'll have to remain on call, of course, but I think we can muddle through without you for..." she raised her eyebrows, "two weeks?" she suggested.

Beck's eyes lit up as he nodded. "Thank you," he said gratefully.

The President smiled back at him. 'You've earned it - more than earned it," she said and they shared a glance full of remembered danger and terror, and of trust born under the most extreme circumstances. She said, "You realize, of course, it's a two week leave in name only?"

Beck chuckled. "Of course," he agreed, "but I still appreciate the gesture."

*/*/*/*

 _Then - March 2008_

Beck and Hawkins were met by bullets slamming into the door frame high above their heads. They dove to the floor, scrambling to either side of the door.

"Madam President! It's Hawkins!"

"And Major Beck!"

" _Shit_!" Her voice was low to the floor and came from behind the overturned desk that was partially obscured by the smoke and dust. "Did I hit you?"

"Not even close, ma'am," Beck said as he and Hawkins regained their feet and, crouched low, hurried their way towards her.

"How we knew it was you," Hawkins said as they threw themselves down on either side of her.

"Asshole," she said without heat. She was covered with grit and dust and held the gun tightly with both shaking hands.

"Ma'am, we have to get you out of here," Beck said, his voice as calm and soothing as he could make it. "Are you ready?"

The President swallowed and nodded, then she glanced at her feet clad in attractive high-heeled shoes. "Wait," she said. She removed her shoes with one trembling hand, the other never loosening its death grip on the gun. "This pains me," she joked weakly, "but I can't run in these." She handed one to Hawkins and the other to Beck. They quickly snapped off the heels and she slipped the shoes back on. She nodded to Hawkins and Beck and they made their way to the door.

Beck's troops had done their job well, drawing the fighting away from the President's location and in the opposite direction that she and the others needed to go. Beck and Hawkins quickly checked the corridor then turned to the terrified but resolute woman behind them.

"If you're going to shoot that thing," Hawkins said, "aim high. Remember we're the ones trying to rescue you."

"Careful, Mr. Hawkins - I _could_ shoot you on purpose." But she visibly relaxed slightly and gave him a glimmer of a grateful smile.

Beck chuckled. "I've been tempted myself." He glanced at her. "Ready, Madam President?"

She nodded as she quipped, "Under the circumstances, call me Rebekkah."

Beck met her eyes through the gritty, smoky haze, and was once again impressed by her courage and determination.

He nodded at Hawkins and with the President between them they made their run out of the building and towards the waiting helicopter.

The chopper lifted off just as the ASA ground forces came around the building, weapons firing. Hawkins, Beck and the four soldiers in the chopper returned fire until they were safely out of range.

The President, grim-faced, looked out the chopper windows at the devastated, burning city, and flinched each time the jets zoomed close to them, shooting down enemy planes and missiles. Then they were clear of Columbus and the thick of the battle, and they could see, dotted on the horizon for as far as the eye could see, columns of smoke, the other cities burning under the ASA onslaught.

The President twisted in her seat, and for the first time since he'd met her, Beck saw tears in her eyes.

She fumbled for the radio, and the soldier beside her helped her turn it on.

"Where to now?" she demanded furiously. "Where are we supposed to hide now?"

"There's only one place left, ma'am," Beck replied.

"And where, exactly, is _that_?" she bit out.

"Jericho," Hawkins said. "And we won't be hiding."

*/*/*/*

 _Now - November 2008_

Beck and Hawkins left the President's office in what used to be Jericho's City Hall.

"You'll keep me in the loop?" Beck said. It wasn't really a question.

Hawkins nodded. "Of course." He considered Beck thoughtfully. "Congratulations," he added.

Beck gave him a glimmer of a smile. "Thank you," he said. "But you sound...cautious." Their gazes clashed and once again there was that mutual, respectful recognition that the other man was both a fellow warrior and a dangerous adversary. They were far more alike than Beck liked to admit, and he could almost read the thoughts racing through Hawkins' mind.

"Even though things are relatively quiet, there are still pockets of lawlessness, resistance and guerrilla warfare throughout the country," Hawkins finally said carefully, "and we've both heard rumblings that what's left of the ASA is getting ready to launch another offensive from wherever they've holed up. It's also no secret you're one of the very few people the President trusts." Hawkins shook his head. "I want to just be happy for you, but I've been black ops for too long. _Why now_?"

Beck pressed his lips tightly together, staring into the distance as they walked towards the sheriff's office. He slid a resentful glance in Hawkins' direction. "So, I'm supposed to look a gift horse in the mouth?" he asked.

Hawkins stared back, his eyes as soulless as a shark's. "I'm saying there may be somebody behind her, expecting to be paid for finding her husband." He blinked, and he was once again the man and not the operative. "Be happy," he said softly, sincerely. "Be grateful. But also be _observant_."

*/*/*/*

 _Then - February 2008_

Beck did his best not to pace. He called on every ounce of military discipline he possessed to remain stoic, composed and above all - still. He didn't know when the office door might open, and he didn't want to look as nervous as he felt. He'd gone toe-to-toe with generals. He'd commanded thousands of troops and had held the lives of thousands - tens of thousands - of civilians in his hands. But he'd never before been asked to meet with the President of the United States. Even if she hadn't actually been elected. Even if it wasn't quite the same United States he'd once sworn to defend.

Even if she was a different President than the one they'd come east to serve.

He glanced at the other officers waiting with him, the remaining members of the coalition he'd brought from Kansas. They'd all been fighting steadily for the last three, almost four months, and were all worn to the bone - and looked it. In addition, the effects of the events of the last four days showed in their eyes.

The door opened and everyone rose to their feet. Beck's jaw dropped when he saw the man who came through the door.

Hawkins' expression was deadpan, although his eyes were grimly amused as he met Beck's gaze.

Beck shook his head. "You know what? I'm not even surprised," he sighed.

Hawkins invited them in to the President's office, where he proceeded to introduce himself and provided them with a brief explanation of his role in the Attacks, in gathering the evidence Beck had used to convince them to join his cause, and how and why Hawkins was now in the room with them.

Beck listened with half an ear to Hawkins' skillfully manufactured story that left many pieces out while still providing the listeners with the information they needed. He was anxious to speak to Hawkins privately to find out what happened after he, Beck, had left Jericho. Beck also wanted to know where Jake was, since if Hawkins was here, Jake couldn't be far behind. And if both Hawkins and Jake were here, then who was defending Jericho. More importantly, who was protecting Heather.

Beck kept these thoughts in the back of his mind as he observed the President and found himself intrigued by her.

President Rebekkah Washington (fitting, Beck thought with grim humor) was a striking woman, her skin a slightly lighter shade of black than Hawkins', with a stubborn jaw and beautiful eyes that were dark, intelligent and, Beck realized, uncertain but determined. Beck admired her resilience and fortitude, especially in light of the fact that she'd been twenty or more steps down in Columbus' line of succession and had only officially become President two days before - two days after the ASA attack that left the former President and his cabinet dead or dying. It had taken that long to sort out who was left after the direct attack on the former President's residence.

The current President's eyes moved from person to person during Hawkins' explanation, observing, cataloguing, analyzing. Beck could almost see the wheels turn in her head, although he had no idea what she was thinking or what conclusions she was drawing. Her eyes met his and became even more thoughtful.

"Major Beck," she said once Hawkins had finished, "I understand you were responsible for these additions to our armed forces four months ago." She nodded her head at Beck's fellow officers.

"I gave them information," Beck replied. "They chose their own path."

"But you risked your life to share that information. Any one of these men could have betrayed you."

Beck glanced at his fellow officers, then back at the President. "It was a risk that needed to be taken."

They assessed each other for a moment, then the President slowly smiled at him. "Well, I for one thank you. And I asked you all here to meet you for myself and to hear the story first hand." She sobered, and again Beck saw that flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "Since I'm in need of military advisors, Mr. Hawkins suggested I meet with you and your coalition first. If nothing else, he promised you'd speak truth to me. Plus, unlike my predecessor, I think your knowledge of the ASA's inner workings could prove to be invaluable to me." She carefully observed the seven men in front of her. "We're losing the war, aren't we?" she asked bluntly.

Beck pulled himself into his most rigid military stance. "We've suffered an enormous loss," he acknowledged, "but we're not at the point of surrender yet. Ma'am."

"But we're getting there, aren't we?"

"Only if that's where you want us to go," Beck replied. "We still have a secure supply line, well-trained troops, and strong civilian resistance. The success of the ASA's attack four days ago was a harsh blow, Madam President, but we're still strong and still have a chance to win this war."

President Washington smiled at him again and turned to the others. "What do you think?" she asked.

The other six men glanced at each other, then at Beck, then back to the President. "Major Beck's been right so far," Major Coupland said. "We haven't lost yet, and it's too soon to think of surrender."

She considered them all then looked back to Beck, weighing her options. She came to a decision. "All right," she said with a sharp nod. "What do we do next?"

"I have an idea about that," Hawkins said.

*/*/*/*

 _Then - March 2008_

"They already have her."

Beck reacted without thinking, grabbing Hawkins by the shirt and slamming him against the wall.

"Where is she?" he growled.

"I don't know," Hawkins rasped. "That's the whole point of this exercise after all. I'm waiting for word - when she finds Tomarchio."

Beck slowly let him go, disbelieving eyes on Hawkins' face. "You sent that...that _innocent_... _child_ -"

"She's not a child, Major."

"She is when it comes to _this_! They'll -" he squeezed his eyes shut, abruptly let go of Hawkins' shirt and turned his back. He struggled to block out the pictures that formed in his mind. "They'll torture her, Hawkins," he whispered hoarsely. "They'll beat her - rape her -" He spun around to face him. "We have to get her out. _Right now_." Beck began to pace. He started running through his companies, which ones he could quickly redeploy to Cheyenne - or wherever the hell they'd taken her. He'd rip the entire west apart brick by brick until he found her.

"You agreed," Hawkins calmly reminded him. "Besides, Heather volunteered. And she insisted. They were looking for her anyway."

"To execute her for _treason_!" Beck shouted.

"She's been living in a cave for the last two months, Major," Hawkins snapped. "She can't hide forever. She wanted to help and - honestly - there's no one else the ASA wants more...except perhaps you. If this works, the war could be over in a matter of weeks, if not days."

"The chances of it working are what? Slim to none?"

"You _agreed_ , Major," Hawkins said coldly. "The odds didn't seem to matter to you before you learned who'd volunteered for the mission. Personal feelings can't be taken into consideration."

"But I didn't know who -" Beck stopped, realizing he _had_ happily condemned someone else to the fate Heather now faced. He slowly deflated, his breath escaping him in a long sigh. Then he glared at Hawkins. "If she dies..." he growled softly.

"She won't."

Beck ignored him. "If she _dies_ -"

"She _won't_ ," Hawkins said firmly.

"Now you're lying," Beck said flatly, then spun around and paced in silence. He stopped in front of Hawkins, scowling. "You do realize this goes against all the rules of warfare?"

Hawkins smiled grimly. "I don't know if you've noticed, Major - but there are no rules in _this_ warfare."

*/*/*/*

 _Now - November 2008_

Jake immediately nabbed Beck as he left the sheriff's office at the end of the day. News travelled fast in Jericho, so Jake already knew Beck was officially on leave as soon as he walked out the door. With a teasing grin, Jake herded the other man west of downtown and refused to answer any questions as they walked. Ten minutes later, Jake opened the front gate to a charming two storey house and led the way to the front door.

Jake opened the door with a flourish and Beck stepped in to his new home and into a crowd of people applauding his arrival. He stopped, taken aback, then flushed and grinned as he entered into the midst of his friends.

They were all here, he saw. Jake and Emily, Hawkins and Darcy, Eric and Mary, Stanley and Mimi. Heather. And Gail Green, who bustled up to him and enveloped him in a strong maternal hug that brought back such vivid memories of his own mother he had to blink back the sudden rush of hot tears. Gail pulled away and cupped his face.

"I'm so happy for you, honey," she said and kissed him on the lips, much to the delight of their on-lookers. He was hugged and kissed by all the women, his hand was shaken and his shoulder slapped by all the men. If Heather's hug and kiss was more perfunctory than anyone else's, no one had the bad manners to mention it.

There was much laughter and teasing and then Beck said with an appreciative sniff, "Who's been cooking?"

"All of us," Gail said.

"Except Emily," Jake chimed in, "otherwise you'd be too sick with food poisoning to meet the convoy tomorrow." Everyone laughed as Emily smacked Jake on the shoulder.

"You may have a lot in common with Leyna," Beck teased. "She never learned to cook either."

Heather kept the smile on her face with an effort as she listened to the bantering.

Then Stanley placed a bottle on the table with a flourish. It had the effect of a pebble being dropped into a pond as everyone simultaneously leaned away from it.

"Hey now!" he protested. "This is one of my best efforts!"

Gail clapped her hands together before anyone could answer and turn the evening into a verbal brawl. "Okay, before we start eating and drinking, and leaving the dishes for Beck to clean up," she winked at Beck's startled face. "Why don't you give him a tour of the house, Heather, while the rest of us get the food ready?"

Heather's eyes flew to Gail, consternation written all over her face. Gail gave her a meaningful look and Heather nodded meekly.

"We'll start upstairs," she said and invited him to follow her with a tilt of her head.

"What was that about?" he asked softly as they walked up the stairs.

Heather sighed. He always noticed too much, she thought. "Gail thinks we need a chance to talk," she replied. "I don't necessarily agree."

By the time they'd toured the two upstairs bedrooms and the main floor and were standing in the fully developed basement, Heather was chattering like her life depended on her explaining why they'd chosen the house.

"I know it seems big, but you need room to meet with - with - well, everybody, and Leyna may, you know, want her own space for awhile and who knows, you might find Elje soon or have more children or adopt - or - or - or not," she added hastily at his look. "I mean, there's so much you'll have to talk about when Leyna arrives, and really, the future is still so uncertain, and it's none of my business and I'll shut up now."

Beck was standing back, his arms crossed, amused and sad. He considered her in silence as she stood before him, her hands twisting together nervously.

"I know this isn't easy for you," Beck said quietly. "You didn't have to do any of this." He encompassed the house, the furnishings and the noisy crowd upstairs in one slight tilt of his head. "You have every right to simply leave me to muddle through this on my own."

Heather gave him a twisted smile. "First and foremost, Beck, I'm your friend. You were completely honest with me when you came back six months ago, and told me right away you'd received news Leyna was still alive. It's not like you ever tried to..." she hesitated, then she raised her chin and looked him squarely in the eye as the memory of a warm kiss that tasted of chocolate drifted across her mind. "We were always just friends, Beck, and friends do these kinds of things."

Beck considered her thoughtfully. "You know we're a little more than "just" friends," he said quietly.

Heather shook her head. "One kiss a year ago doesn't mean anything," she assured him and hoped he'd accept the lie. She gave him a rueful smile. "If we'd pursued a relationship when you came back, we'd be having a very different conversation."

He smiled slowly at her. "I'm sure we would," he agreed. Then he sobered, his eyes solemn and sad and filled with regret for what might have been. Lurking beneath it all was still that hint of fascination he always had whenever he looked at her, like he couldn't quite believe she was real.

After a long moment, Heather looked away, glancing around the basement. "So," she said, her voice deliberately cheerful, "do you think Leyna will like it?"

Beck looked around. "What's not to like?" he asked. Leyna would have hated it Before; too old fashioned for her tastes. Now? She'd probably think it was a little piece of heaven.

Heather nodded in relief. "I'm glad," she said. She moved past him to go back upstairs. He stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. She stopped short, feeling his heat through her thin sweater.

"Heather," he said softly. She looked up at him, and he was again struck by the honesty in her eyes. He hesitated, then he said, "Thank you. I wouldn't have made it this far without you."

She blinked at him then smiled a bit shyly. "You would have been just fine," she said quietly, "but thank you."

"Things are going to change," he continued, "but your place in my life won't."

Heather blinked back tears and realized that it was her turn to accept the lie. She placed her hand on his where it rested on her arm and gently squeezed. "I know," she said quietly. She looked into his eyes and for a moment was tempted to lean forward and kiss him for all she was worth. A good-bye kiss to remember, she thought, before she dropped her hand from his and moved away, his hand sliding off her arm.

"We should go eat," she said, "before all that's left is Stanley's wine."

Beck blinked, suddenly cold as she walked away from him. As he followed her back upstairs, he realized he missed her already.

*/*/*/*

The next day dawned crisp and cold, the smell of snow sharp in the air. Beck was tense, strung tight, as he waited for the convoy from Louisiana to arrive. He tried to stay still, but he was twitchy, ready to jump out of his skin at the slightest sound.

When the corporal finally came to tell Beck the convoy had cleared Jericho's eastern checkpoint, Beck's face said it all. His eyes were wide, and Heather's heart clenched at the vulnerability in his eyes and face as he hurried past without seeing her.

Beck stood, waiting nervously as the humvees pulled up to the sheriff's office, each beat of his heart shaking his body.

He caught his breath as the doors opened. A woman emerged, a slender, brown-eyed brunette. She carefully looked around before meeting his eyes. She said his name. They stared wordlessly at each other. Then - Beck didn't know how it happened - they were in each other's arms, and Beck had his face buried in her hair, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Heather turned and walked away.


	2. Part Two: Pleasure and Pain

**Part Two: Pleasure and Pain**

 _Now - May 2009_

Beck and Heather were on the road before dawn and drove in comfortable and somewhat sleepy silence. As the sun rose, Beck glanced at Heather in the passenger seat. She was smiling slightly as she looked out at the fields filled with wheat and corn and other crops. God and good luck willing, Beck thought, they'd have a good crop this year.

She turned and gave him a sweet smile. "It's wonderful to be out of Jericho," she said. "I'd almost forgotten what it looked like outside the walls."

Beck shrugged unapologetically. "It was for your own good."

"I know," she assured him. "I'm just glad the guerrilla attacks seem to be slowing down."

Beck frowned and shook his head. "They're slowing down," he agreed, "but they're becoming much more focused and effective."

Heather frowned as well, her brow wrinkled in thought. "I've been wondering about that," she said. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Too many," Beck replied grimly. "In the meantime, even though you're on this trip, it's because the President specifically wanted you to handle these assessments and meetings. If we had the resources, we'd have an armed convoy protecting us. So don't get any ideas that my orders on travel outside Jericho have changed."

Heather laughed. "I won't. I won't even argue with you about it. I understand the reasons better than anybody."

He pressed his lips together at her words. Even though he'd wanted to remind her of the reasons behind his orders, he didn't like to remember those reasons either.

*/*/*/*

 _Then - November 2008_

Heather had thought the crushing disappointment she'd felt when she finally admitted Jake simply wasn't interested in her had been bad. That was nothing compared to _this_.

But the world didn't stop turning just because her heart was broken. It hadn't even stopped turning when twenty-three American cities were turned into so much radioactive dust. Besides, there was always more than enough work that needed to be done and today was no exception.

Heather told Captain Clark she was going to assess an abandoned farm she'd been told about that was an hour from Jericho. She coaxed Charlotte into starting and headed out.

She was deliberately cheerful with the Rangers guarding the wall at the western checkpoint. She told them where she was going and pointed out her route on a map for them. As they noted the particulars, they teased her good-naturedly about Charlotte and told her to be careful since the road gangs headed by Constantino were becoming more active and more bold, getting closer and closer to Jericho each time. She promised she'd keep a sharp eye out, and drove away with a jaunty wave.

She knew she wasn't fooling anybody.

She watched the wall they'd built during the war recede behind her. It was a motley thing and hadn't really been intended to protect the town against an attack. Instead, it was meant to be a tool to control who could access the town itself. It was supposed to be a temporary security measure until Beck and Hawkins had arrived with the President and what was left of the cabinet, Congress and the Senate in tow.

Heather shook her head as she drove, remembering the scramble to find housing and supplies for 150 extra bodies - including the leader of the country. Heather had really been in no shape to take on the task, but no one else had known as much about the town's capacity on such short notice. She made a conscious effort now to ensure the knowledge was shared more broadly among her staff. Really, she thought, Beck and Leyna were lucky there'd still been a vacant house available, and one of such good size and in such good shape.

She winced and pushed the thought of Beck and Leyna - and the mental pictures of what they were most probably doing - firmly from her mind.

*/*/*/*

Beck and Leyna were talking.

He felt awkward, like he was making conversation with a stranger, and he supposed that wasn't far off the truth of it. It had been almost three years, after all, and those three years had been filled with unimaginable upheaval, chaos and danger. Even now, six months after the end of the war, "normal" was just a word they _used_ to use.

It was vaguely similar to how he felt the first few days home from deployment. Like an alien in his own life.

He suspected it was going to take more than just a few days for things to feel... _right_.

At the moment, he was letting Leyna talk. She'd already told him about Elje, how she'd found Elje's body after a food riot in Santa Fe. He'd held her as she cried. The pain for him was both deep - and distant. He'd been preparing for the worst as soon as he'd learned Leyna was alone at that refugee camp.

Now Beck held her hands as she continued to speak about her split-second decision after finding Elje to leave Santa Fe without a word to the family left behind.

"I - I think I went a little crazy. I just...couldn't go back and face them," Leyna said softly, staring into the distance. "I - I didn't know how to tell them -" She shook her head. "So I never went back. I just...left. I went to one of the staging areas, you know, where people were gathering to try and get out of the city. Travelling in groups - safety in numbers. I'd heard there were refugee camps all over New Mexico and into Texas - so I just waited around until there was a spot on a transport, and I hopped on. I ended up in Mexico for several months. I managed to get back into Texas just before they closed the borders. From there, I headed east and just roamed around, hoping to find a place I could settle in. After the war, I drifted west again."

"Why didn't you try to get in touch with me?" Beck asked softly, blinking back the tears in his eyes.

"I didn't really know where you were, or if you'd even made it back from Iraq. And things were so chaotic - well, it was tough enough finding anyone who knew what was happening, let alone trying to get word to one lowly Major in an army for a country that no longer existed."

Beck frowned slightly, then let the words slide off his back. There were bigger questions, bigger chasms to build bridges across than their long-standing friction about his career and ambition, or lack thereof. He shook off a mental image of a chasm named Heather and refocused on the woman in front of him.

"Were you in refugee camps all along?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I moved in and out. The refugee camps were so crowded and poorly supplied - chances were sometimes better outside of them. But they were a place to go when - well, when you wore out your welcome."

Beck frowned slightly. "Did that happen often?"

"In the beginning, it happened all the time. People were afraid - and that first winter, there was no food anywhere - no extra, I mean. If you hadn't been part of the town Before, you weren't welcome once the food supplies diminished and people started looking at each other differently. Later on, when I was back in the west and the ASA was starting to increase its influence and control, when food supplies became more stable, then we could stay."

"We?" Beck asked gently.

Leyna's gaze slid away from his. "I'm not...I'm not proud of some of the things I've had to do," she murmured.

Beck froze but to his surprise he felt no jealousy at the thought that Leyna may have been lovers with another man, or even several. But he also had to be practical. "Kenchy will give you a physical when you've had some rest," he said, his voice neutral.

Her eyes flew to his and he flinched at the rage and hurt in her eyes. "Worried I'm bringing you some disease?" she snapped, snatching her hands away from his. "Well, I'm sorry I'm not a soldier who could make her way without resorting to - to -"

"I'm not judging you," he said softly.

"No?" Her sarcasm was viciously biting.

"No," he replied simply.

"Well," she said coldly and clearly, "I wasn't a whore, if that's what you're worried about. When I could, I simply...allied myself with strong, powerful or influential men. They took care of me and I...took care of them."

A distant part of him was amazed at his lack of surprise or anger, but to be honest, he'd already painted a million different scenarios for how Leyna could have managed to keep her and Elje alive all this time. Leyna was a beautiful, intelligent woman with many wonderful qualities - and absolutely no practical skills. It was just one of the things he'd loved about her.

 _Did_ love.

Now he simply considered the story the same way he considered a million other similar stories he'd heard over the last two years. It was a story as old as time, he thought with a sigh, and a story, he was sure, that would repeat itself until humanity finally ended.

She seemed to read his mind. "I also worked wherever there was a need for willing even if unskilled hands. I cleaned bedpans," she shuddered delicately, "and I peeled potatoes - when we had potatoes. I collected garbage and harvested crops." She mournfully considered her hands. "I hope I'll be able to get rid of these callouses now," she said with a wistful sigh.

Beck hesitated, then he said, "We'll find something for you to do that will be a better fit," he promised.

She smiled at him, her anger gone as quickly as it had arrived. "I'm sure I could photocopy and file in your office," she suggested.

"We already have somebody," he said absently, still flipping through mental index cards of the vacancies in Jericho.

"Well, maybe in the - what do you call it now? It's not the White House, is it?"

Beck blinked and frowned at her. "Hmmm? Actually, we just call it City Hall." He shrugged. "We haven't had much time to be creative," he said.

"No? She's been here for six months."

"We've been busy," he said drily.

Leyna gave him a fondly exasperated look. "Anyway, I'm sure there's something I could do there. Deliver the mail." She shrugged. "I'm pretty good at emptying wastebaskets."

Beck chuckled softly. "I'll ask around. Heather will know what's available." He winced at Heather's name. "Leyna," he said softly, and recaptured her hands in his. "I have to tell you something."

"What?" she teased. "You fell in love with somebody else?" She laughed lightly, then her eyes widened as she took in his expression. "Oh, my God," she breathed, "you have, haven't you?"

Beck looked at her very steadily. "I debated all day and all night whether to even bother telling you about her. We never acted on our feelings, I swear. But you've been so honest with me, you deserve to hear the truth from me."

"You're in love with her?" Leyna asked flatly.

"Yes," he said gently, "although I've never told her. I'm married to you, after all. And I still love you. I chose you a long time ago."

"So why tell me at all?" she demanded bitterly.

"Because you're going to figure it out for yourself. Or somebody's going to tell you. And she doesn't deserve to be treated like she's a dirty secret. She's been my best friend for - for years now. Plus, she works with me."

"Well," Leyna said sliding her hands out of Beck's and leaning back against the couch. "Is she this - this Heather you just mentioned?"

"Yes," Beck said.

Leyna stared off into the distance, frowning. Then she looked at Beck. "So, where does this leave us?" she asked.

"It leaves us...as we are now," Beck replied quietly. "You're my wife and I love you - and I want to - to have you back." His voice broke.

Leyna smiled at him, then she leaned forward, cupped his face and pressed a warm kiss against his mouth. The kiss deepened, became hungry, devouring and she slowly tugged him over her as she laid back on the couch.

*/*/*/*

Heather pulled into the yard and debated for a moment about turning Charlotte off. The truck had been acting up all the way here, and help wouldn't arrive for hours - maybe even a day or two - if Heather ended up stranded.

On the other hand, that tendency to catch fire hadn't been _completely_ resolved.

Heather shut off the engine and the loss of the comfortable, familiar rattling sounds suddenly made her feel unbearably lonely.

She leaned her forehead against her hands grasping the steering wheel and finally let herself sob out her sadness and pain.

*/*/*/*

Beck and Leyna snuggled on the carpet in the living room, a blanket draped over them. Leyna's head rested on Beck's shoulder, her arm and leg draped over him. She was sleeping. Beck frowned as he stared at the ceiling and told himself things would eventually feel _right_ \- it would just take time. He sent up a silent thank you to whichever god might be listening that he'd remembered to pick up condoms from the med-center the previous afternoon. He hadn't known what the last two years had been like for Leyna, and he didn't know if Leyna would want to sleep with him again immediately, but he'd wanted to have some available to use as birth control, just in case.

Leyna stirred, nuzzling into his neck. Her hand slowly stroked down his chest to his stomach and then lower.

"Mmmmm," she sighed, and lifted sleepy eyes and a wickedly sexy smile to him, "I've missed you," she said, then kissed him, her hand firmly closing around him.

Things _would_ feel right soon, he told himself again as he kissed her back and began exploring the familiar curves of her body.

It would just take time.

*/*/*/*

The sun was setting by the time Heather completed the assessment checklist. The property was isolated, off the beaten track and hidden by a copse of trees that, judging from the size, had probably been planted when the farmstead was first settled. There was the smell of snow in the air, and Heather's breath misted in front of her face as she sat in Charlotte writing her final notes. The buildings and their contents were still in good shape and, through some miracle, hadn't been salvaged for fuel or building supplies. It was almost like finding buried treasure, Heather thought.

She made her last note, shivering, then dropped the clipboard on the seat beside her and glanced worriedly at the slate-gray sky. With luck she'd be back in Jericho before the snow started. She reached for the ignition.

The keys were gone.

Heather stared stupidly at the empty slot and for the first time in two days, the sick, sinking feeling in her stomach had absolutely nothing to do with Beck.

She snapped her head up and frantically scanned the area.

Then she saw them, coming out of the trees.

Two men, heavily bearded, dressed in thick coats and carrying handguns.

Heather sat in Charlotte and watched them walk towards her, her heart pounding, wondering what the hell she'd gotten herself into. She briefly thought of running - but there was nowhere to go, no place to make a stand. While she could hotwire the truck, she couldn't do it quickly enough to be out of the yard before they started firing. Her options, she thought, all ended with "you're fucked". She swallowed, then opened the door and stepped out of the truck. She stood waiting, her hands loose at her sides.

As they got closer she saw their grins were feral, their eyes glittering with some emotion she didn't want to name. She tried to hide her shudder but she knew they could see her revulsion and fear.

They paused several feet away from her, their eyes raking her from head to toe.

"What do you want?" she asked, and was grateful her voice wasn't shaking like her body.

They grinned at her, their guns almost casually threatening her. "Well, we weren't expecting _you_ ," the one on the right, the taller one, said.

Heather frowned. "Are you squatting here?" she asked. "I was told this place was deserted."

"Oh, it's deserted all right," the one on the left replied. "We're the ones who sent the information about this place to Jericho." He glanced at his companion and the look on his face made Heather's skin crawl. "I think we just won the lottery, bro."

"I think we did, too. Who knew sending a message was going to be this much fun?" The taller one grabbed for her arm but Heather skittered out of reach, then froze as both men quickly aimed their guns at her. The threat was no longer casual.

She swallowed, her wide eyes focused on the guns, then she forced herself to raise her gaze to theirs.

"Sending a message?" she croaked.

They went to either side of her and each one grabbed an arm. They forced her around and started marching her towards the house.

"We don't like your President," the shorter one said, "we don't like your army, and we don't like Jericho. But we sure do like _you_."

Heather's breath was coming in short pants as they tugged her up the house's front steps and forced her through the door, letting her go as they did so. She spun to face them, backing away as they prowled towards her.

"Is that it?" she asked. "That's the message?"

"That," the taller one agreed, pressing her back against the wall, his breath hot and moist against her face, "and the fact that this is a warning shot - just to let all you people in Jericho know we're here. To let you know that none of you people are safe once you're outside that fucking wall."

Heather stared at him, her eyes wide and horrified. "Who are you?" she whispered. "Are you with Constantino?"

They laughed at her. "Constantino? He's not even close to our league. We'll take care of _him_ in due course. And you don't need to know who we are - just that we're here. And none of you are safe. _None_ of you."

"That's it? That's the message?" she repeated.

The taller one laughed and ground himself heavily against her. She felt his erection pressing against her through their various layers of clothes and she fought a wave of nausea as she turned her face away from his. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him, his fingers digging deep into her skin.

"No, sweetheart. _You're_ the message," he said. The shorter one whooped as the taller one ground his lips against hers, forced her mouth open and roughly shoved his tongue inside.

Heather took almost sadistic pleasure in his howl of agony as she bit down with all her might even as the rush of hot coppery blood into her mouth almost made her gag.

He wrenched himself away from her, dropping his gun to clutch his mouth. His companion rushed forward to help. Heather spat blood out of her mouth and was ready when the shorter one spun towards her, raising his gun. She quickly stepped inside his reach, forcing his arm down with one hand while driving her forearm into his face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch. She grabbed his gun from the floor and hit him hard across the temple with it. He went down in a heap.

She picked up the second gun then walked up to the taller one. He stared at her with teary eyes filled with rage, surprise and pain. Heather hoped there was at least a glimmer of fear as well.

"Who are you? Who are you working for?" she demanded.

He shook his head. Heather sighed. "You should really tell me, you know. You _don't_ want Hawkins asking the questions."

He spat at her, staining her coat with blood. She gave him her saddest, most disappointed look, then hit him across the temple with the gun and let him join his companion.

She tucked the guns into her coat pockets then, with one eye over her shoulder, she searched through his pockets, looking for identification and Charlotte's keys.

She found neither.

She stood, frowning down at him, then she sighed and went over to the other one and she repeated the process with the same results.

She stood. She quickly found some sheets and, using her pocketknife, she cut them into strips which she then used to securely hogtie her would-be rapists. She didn't want them getting away before she brought back Jake and Hawkins. She opened the front door and stopped short at the wall of snow and howling wind that lurked just outside. She realized she'd been hearing the wind for some time, but had been too focused on securing her prisoners to pay too much attention to it. If it was this bad within the shelter of the trees, she thought, she didn't even want to think what it was like on the open Kansas prairie.

She walked back into the living room and considered her two prisoners. She had no doubt she could keep them secure. Hawkins had taught her well, she thought grimly, but she'd still be awake all night, just to be sure. But first she'd need heat.

She dragged her two still-unconscious prisoners to opposite corners of the living room then she prepared to brave the howling storm outside. She'd noted a huge pile of firewood in the barn and she'd need to carry as much of it to the house as she could before the storm got much worse. She cut up another sheet, tying the ends together until she had a rope she hoped was long enough to stretch to the barn from the front porch.

As she set off into the bitter wind and the blinding snow, she wondered if anyone had noticed she hadn't returned to Jericho.

*/*/*/*

The night passed slowly, especially since Heather didn't dare fall asleep in case the fire went out or her two prisoners managed to get loose. She'd dragged them close to the fireplace, and when they'd regained consciousness, she'd checked their injuries and their bonds, then let them glare at her through their pain.

She sat wrapped in a musty comforter in an armchair she'd placed in front of the fire and watched the flames. She stoked the fire, kept watch over her prisoners, and listened to the howling wind. She thought of what she'd do when the storm lifted, and hoped she'd be able to get out of the farmyard without any problems.

Morning felt like it would never arrive.

On the other hand, she thought with grim amusement, she'd only brooded about Beck for part of the night and not the _entire_ night.

But morning did finally come, and with it the end of the storm. Heather jerked suddenly awake from a light doze, gripping a gun as she frantically looked around, trying to understand what had awakened her. She realized she could no longer hear the wind. Her two prisoners were still firmly hogtied on either side of the fireplace and they seemed to be sleeping. The one with the broken nose was breathing heavily making a whistling, snoring sound. She winced at the man's swollen face before remembering they'd at the very least intended to rape her the evening before.

She'd long ago lost any sympathy for the devil.

The fire had burned down and she was aware of the chill in the air. She stoked and added wood to the fire then made her way, shivering, to find something she could use as a chamber pot - and someplace private so she could do so.

Which was why she was upstairs, in the frigidly cold bathroom, when the front door slammed open. She heard the sound of men's voices, raised in urgent command, while at the same time she realized she was hearing the distant sound of rotors rapidly getting closer. She pulled one of the guns from her pocket and stood holding her breath by the window, keeping one eye on the door. She watched as three men struggled through the snow to the front door, then watched as they - along with their companion who had come into the house earlier - helped her two overnight guests outside. They struggled back through the snow and had just made the trees when the helicopter came into sight and set down in the yard, swirling the freshly fallen snow into a mini-blizzard.

Heather pocketed the gun when she saw Jake and Hawkins jump out of the chopper and she hurried downstairs to meet them.

*/*/*/*

Beck and Leyna ventured out into the cold and snow in search of breakfast. Leyna had looked at the food in the fridge, sighed, and pouted, and he'd laughed. For a moment, it was like the last three years had never happened. It was somehow comforting to know Leyna still didn't know how to cook. As they walked to Bailey's, Beck wondered if Jake sometimes felt this amused exasperation with Emily.

The first thing he saw was Heather sitting at the bar with Hawkins, chomping into a hamburger like she hadn't eaten for days. She closed her eyes in bliss and nodded at whatever Mary was saying as she chewed. It was all hauntingly familiar. Beck leaned closer to Leyna.

"That's Heather," he murmured in her ear before guiding her towards his friends.

Hawkins, of course, saw them first and as Beck and Leyna walked towards them, Hawkins touched Heather's shoulder and murmured in her ear. She opened her eyes and looked over at them, and Beck's heart lurched as their eyes met. He frowned as he got closer and saw her eyes were glittering with exhaustion and there were dark circles beneath them.

Hawkins stood, and Beck introduced him to Leyna while Heather hastily chewed and swallowed, wiping her hands as she, too, stood for the introductions. She shook Leyna's hand.

"I'm very happy to meet you," Heather said. "Sorry about this," she said, gesturing vaguely at the platter of food and her clothes. "It was a long night."

Leyna smiled slyly and slanted Beck a purely sexual look. "I know _exactly_ what you mean," she purred, rubbing his arm. Beck flushed as he shot an embarrassed and apologetic glance at Heather, who was staring thoughtfully at Leyna. He frowned as he took a better look at Heather.

"Are those bruises?" he demanded, peering at the long purplish smudges that marred the pale skin of her jawline. He hastily scanned the rest of her. "Is that _blood_?" he demanded, moving closer, Leyna's hand dropping unnoticed from his arm.

Heather glanced down. "Not mine," she assured him, "and yes, those are bruises. I'm fine. Really." She stared at him, her expression warning him to let it go, her eyes flicking to Leyna and back to him. He frowned, but stepped back. She smiled slightly. "I'm _really_ sorry, but I'm starving. Do you mind if I...?" she waved at the plate.

"Not at all. We're starving, too," Leyna said at her most charming. "Would you like to join us for breakfast?" she asked, including Hawkins in the invitation.

"I'm not really going to be very good company until after I've eaten," Heather replied. "But you can join them if you want," she added to Hawkins as she sat down, then took another bite of her burger.

"I promised Jake I wouldn't let you out of my sight," Hawkins replied absently, his watchful eyes never leaving Leyna's face. He ignored Heather's muffled scoffing sound.

"Not let you - what the _hell_ happened last night?" Beck demanded.

Heather indicated her full mouth and gestured at Hawkins to tell Beck the story. Before he could begin, Jake burst into Bailey's on a wave of snowy, cold air. He rushed towards them, talking rapidly, his dark eyes wide.

"Okay, Clark's sending out some soldiers to search the area - hey, Beck. With this snow, they should be able to find their tracks without a problem, although it's starting to snow again. With any luck, they'll have the bastards in custody by this afternoon. They'll tow Charlotte back, too." He paused and considered the woman standing next to Beck. "And you must be Leyna," he said, holding out his hand.

Leyna nodded, and shook his hand.

"I'm Jake. Jake Green. Your husband here," he waved his thumb at Beck, "made me sheriff in a moment of madness, and I've refused to leave the position ever since."

Leyna's eyes widened as she listened. "Who's Charlotte and why are you towing her?" she asked, slightly befuddled.

"Heather's truck," Beck and Jake said simultaneously, and smiled wryly at each other.

"Although, really, the bastards deserve her," Jake added. Heather made another muffled protest and smacked him lightly on the shoulder. He grinned and winked at Beck, who shook his head and grinned back.

"Okay," Beck said. "Somebody had better tell me what's going on - and fast! Jesus - I've only been off duty for a day!"

Heather finished swallowing her last bite of food, and turned to them. "Well," she said thoughtfully, wiping her hands, "if this is what happens after only one day, I'm terrified to know what this place is going to be like after two weeks!" Her voice turned watery and Beck took a step towards her. Jake smoothly inserted himself between them, pulling Heather into a comforting hug.

"You're just tired," he soothed. "When you're ready, I'll take you home. Emily's probably already there."

Heather nodded, her entire body drooping. "I'm ready now," she sighed tiredly. "I feel like I could sleep for a week." She gave Leyna an exhausted, slightly embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry," she said to her. "Not a very pleasant welcome, I'm afraid." She straightened. "Welcome to Jericho. I hope you'll be very happy here." She couldn't quite look at Beck as she said the words, although to her credit, she sounded sincere.

"Thank you," Leyna murmured. She sounded both thoughtful and bemused, and they watched in silence as Jake and Heather left the bar.

"This is all very well and good," Beck snapped to Hawkins, "but nobody has told me what the hell's going on!"

Hawkins grinned. "Let's go sit, and I'll fill you in."

*/*/*/*

In the end, the soldiers came back empty-handed, although they did deliver Charlotte to Heather's place.

That night, after everyone left, Heather felt a chill of loneliness and slight discomfort at being alone in her house. She cautiously looked out her window and thoughtfully considered the truck in her driveway.

She'd move Charlotte in the morning, she decided. She didn't think those men had anyone in Jericho - and they definitely shouldn't have known who she was - but there was no point in taking any chances. She shivered.

For the first time since shortly after Beck had returned and the President took up residence in Jericho, Heather locked her doors.

*/*/*/*

 _Now - May 2009_

"We imposed the restriction on leaving Jericho without an armed escort on everyone, not just you," Beck reminded her. "You should have heard the President! She was _not_ impressed! Even though for her there wasn't any real change since she wasn't allowed to leave Jericho without an armed escort in the first place."

"I think it was the armed escort you insisted she keep with her while she was _in_ Jericho that drove her over the edge," Heather said drily. "She shared her opinion about that - in rather colorful language, too, I might add - especially when she started talking about over-protective Majors!"

Beck grinned. "That must have been before Jake and Hawkins weighed in on my side."

Heather nodded. "Otherwise she would have added sheriffs and secret agents to that list. Of course, she did feel a bit sheepish once when she remembered I was the catalyst behind the order."

Beck's grip tightened on the steering wheel and his grin abruptly disappeared.

Heather considered him thoughtfully. "Haven't you ever been curious about my friendship with her?" she asked suddenly. "All this time and you've never once asked me anything about it."

He chuckled. "Of course I'm curious. But neither of you have chosen to share the story with me." He turned thoughtful as he continued, "Besides, the President is a human being and she needs friends like all the rest of us. Hawkins and Jake and I don't quite address that need."

"You address it more than you know," Heather said softly. "But you're right - she needs friends who aren't necessarily focused on her as - as a symbol...if that makes sense."

Beck considered the comment thoughtfully then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense."

*/*/*/*

 _Then - December 2008_

Heather glanced up from working on Charlotte's engine when she heard the knock on her garage door. Her jaw dropped when she saw the President, her security detail hovering behind her. Heather hastily straightened and reached for a rag to wipe her hands.

"Ma'am," Heather said in surprise, her eyes wide.

The President made calming gestures. "It's okay, it's okay," she said. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to take a walk, and I recognized you as we were walking by."

"What?" Heather sputtered. "It's not safe for you to just - just be walking around!" Heather stared, appalled, at the President's security detail, who managed to look abashed even though their expressions didn't change.

"Oh, please," the President sighed, "no one gets into Jericho without going through the checkpoints, and the checks have gotten even more thorough lately, thanks to Beck." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "I've heard they're doing anal probes at the town limits now."

Heather blinked in disbelief, then she slowly smiled as she recognized the teasing light in the President's eyes. "No, no - we only do those on the people we _really_ dislike," Heather said.

Now it was the President's turn to blink in disbelief then she smiled a slow, surprisingly sweet smile and laughed.

Heather felt ridiculously pleased at the sound. She gestured vaguely around her garage. "Would you like me to -"

"No, no, not at all." The President smiled apologetically. "Really - I just wanted to take a walk and maybe -" she shrugged. "Maybe talk to somebody about something other than threats, supply chains, weapons and strategies." She gave a weary sigh.

Heather felt an unexpected stab of pity as she watched the woman before her. The President had been thrust into her position under the most extreme circumstances and had risen to the occasion with grace and determination. But she was very much alone, even among the other survivors from Columbus. Heather wondered what had happened to the President's family, if they had died in the Attacks or in the war, or if, like so many others, they'd simply been lost from sight. Heather wondered how lonely the President must feel, alone and isolated in the place she now called home.

"What would you like to talk about, ma'am?" Heather asked and was rewarded with another sweet smile and a grateful look.

The President shrugged rather helplessly. "I don't really know," she said. "Tell me...tell me anything, so long as it isn't about threats, supply chains -"

"Weapons and strategies?" Heather finished and they both laughed and relaxed. Heather cleared off a chair for the President, then perched on her workbench as she carefully considered a topic of conversation. She smiled at the President. "I used to be an elementary school science teacher," she began, "and one day, one of my kids..."

*/*/*/*

 _Now - May 2009_

They drove in thoughtful silence, then Heather said, "Aren't you worried about, well, about my level of influence with the President?"

Beck laughed. "No! You forget, I work with her every day, and believe me - that is one strong-willed woman. She's not easily fooled or influenced. Besides, I trust you. I know you would never do anything that would deliberately harm the President or anyone else."

Heather blushed. "I'm glad you trust me," she said. "There was a time when I wasn't sure that was the case."

"I never doubted you!" Beck protested.

"You doubted everyone," Heather shrugged. "Understandably so."

Beck stopped the humvee and turned to look at her. His gaze was so intent she couldn't look away.

"I never doubted you," he said fervently. "I always trusted you. Which is why it hurt so much when you lied to me." He searched her face intently. "Do you believe me?"

"You did once throw me in jail for treason," she teased, then sobered. She stared back at him just as intently before she said, very seriously, "I believe you."

The nature of their shared look slowly changed from intense scrutiny to something more personal, something much warmer, a silent expression of the underlying hunger that always seemed to lurk just beneath the surface of their relationship. Beck realized helplessly that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't eliminate that hunger, that yearning for the woman sitting beside him. It felt embedded in his pores; he could smell it on his skin.

Heather flushed and looked away, and Beck shifted uncomfortably, then put the humvee back in gear and continued driving.

The silence now was awkward, filled with unspoken - and in some ways unwelcome - thoughts.

*/*/*/*

 _Then - November 2008_

The weeks after Leyna arrived were...surreal. That was the only word that seemed to fit. Beck found that everything was both familiar and unfamiliar, like nothing was connecting quite the way it used to or quite the way he'd expected. The mixture of then and now had him off-balance. He felt like he was a stranger in his own life. More than that, because he wasn't just a stranger in the life he now led but he was also a stranger in the life he _used_ to lead. Many aspects of his marriage were as he remembered them. Good things, things that reminded him why he'd fallen in love with Leyna in the first place and why he'd searched for her so diligently. But he also realized he'd forgotten - deliberately or otherwise - many of the little things about his life with Leyna Before, and each one surprised him and knocked him off balance again.

Like the restless way she slept, crowding him off the bed and usually managing to painfully smack him several times a night. The third time he was sleepily shuffling to the spare room in an effort to get some uninterrupted sleep, he realized with a mixture of amusement and confusion that he'd somehow forgotten this had once been a common occurrence. Before, it was something he could tolerate without worrying about the next day. But his life was vastly different now, and his sleep was already often interrupted because of one crisis or another - and this wasn't like Before where he could be deployed home for rest and relaxation before once again heading to the front lines. They all lived on the front lines now, and he needed to get his rest when and where he could.

He moved into the spare room the next day, and began to stay in the master bedroom only until Leyna fell asleep.

He was taken aback the first time she rolled her eyes at him. He'd completely forgotten that habit. He'd also forgotten how much it used to annoy him. She did it when she thought he was being overly pompous and rule-bound, or when he was trying to talk her out of doing something she wanted to do. In this case, she wanted to meet the President. Not an unreasonable request, except she wanted to do it immediately. When he began to explain all the steps they'd need to go through to grant her request, she "tsk'd" and rolled her eyes, then said, "You always were so rule-bound and by the book, Eddie. I'd hoped you might have loosened up a little bit."

Which illuminated another little thing: he'd always hated being called Eddie, and she refused to call him anything else.

Making love still felt somehow, subtly _wrong_ , and he still didn't quite know why.

Well.

That wasn't quite true.

Lying in bed the night before he was due to go back on duty, he realized he was looking forward to it with a mixture of relief and anticipation. Relief because, while he'd been kept in the loop with daily updates from Clark or Hawkins or Jake, it wasn't the same as being there each day. He was particularly anxious to find out what progress they'd made, if any, in identifying the men who had attacked Heather.

And there she was. The reason why he was a stranger in his own life. The reason why making love with Leyna felt different. The reason for the anticipation twisting his stomach. He hadn't seen her since they'd checked on her the evening after her attack, and he was anxious to see for himself that she was all right.

Aw, hell, he thought, and sighed. He was just anxious to see _her_. He'd missed her these last two weeks and was looking forward to getting back into a routine where he had an opportunity to see and talk to her every day - even if they didn't actually see or speak to each other. There was something powerfully reassuring just knowing she was _there_. She really was his best friend...and he didn't want to think about what this all said about the kind of man he was.

He resolutely closed his eyes and waited for sleep.

*/*/*/*

 _Now - May 2009_

The silence stretched thin and taut between them until Heather finally sighed and turned to look at him.

"We still have at least two hours to go," she said. "Are we going to sit here in silence for the rest of the way?"

Beck forced himself to relax and gave her a half-smile. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked.

Heather bit her lip, then blurted, "What _happened_?"

Beck didn't even have to ask her what she meant.

*/*/*/*

It wasn't any one thing - not even Heather. It was a combination of many things, and Beck knew he had to take most of the blame. He had lingering feelings for another woman; he had duties that demanded much more of his time and dedication than they had Before; he wasn't as patient with Leyna's eccentricities as he had been Before; how they dealt with the loss of their daughter was diametrically different - and as much as he hated to admit it, and as much as he tried to ignore it, he still heard Hawkins' words of caution whispering in his ears.

But mainly, he thought, it was the little things. Things he'd once considered minor irritations easily ignored began to fester and grow until he realized they couldn't be ignored any longer.

*/*/*/*

 _Then - December 2008_

Christmas supper was at the Richmond farm. It was crowded with Stanley and Mimi, Jake and Emily, Hawkins, Darcy, Allison and Sam; Eric and Mary; Gail; Heather and, of course, Beck and Leyna. The evening was boisterous and loud, with Stanley's wine and Mimi and Stanley's three-month old son Benny adding to the general chaos. Later in the evening, after the dishes had been cleared away and they were simply sitting, talking around the table, they toasted Eric and Mary's new baby who was due in five months. Then Jake and Emily announced her pregnancy, which earned another toast, loud cheers and some good-natured ribbing about jumping on the bandwagon. Then they toasted Leyna's arrival and welcomed her to Jericho and the group everyone considered their extended family.

Leyna sparkled as she accepted the welcome, and Heather could see why Beck was so devoted to her. Even Hawkins seemed charmed. Then, when everyone put their glasses down, Leyna said, "And what about you, Heather? Any special man in your life?"

Beck stared at Leyna in consternation and flushed. Everyone else froze, except for baby Benny happily cooing in his mother's arms.

Leyna smiled at Heather, her dark eyes wide and guileless. "I mean, it just seems you're the odd woman out since everyone else either is, or was, married."

Heather frowned as she shook her head. "No," she said slowly, "there's no one special in my life."

"Well, Heather," Gail said quickly as Leyna opened her mouth to respond, "Leyna has a point. We _are_ the only unmarried people left in this disreputable crowd."

Heather gave her a deeply grateful look. She knew how difficult it was for Gail to talk about losing her husband, even if obliquely. "So we are," Heather replied. "Should we start a support group?"

"No," Gail said thoughtfully, "but I _could_ start sending some handsome young men your way in the new year."

Beck froze, his eyes snapping to Heather's face. For a second their eyes showed too much of what was in their hearts before she quickly re-focused on Gail. Beck silently called himself every type of name he could think of as he dropped his eyes and forced himself to relax. He was happy - or almost - and reunited with the love of his life. He used to believe he was an honorable man - but would an honorable man begrudge Heather a chance to find her own happiness, whatever that might be? He winced slightly as Heather laughed at Gail's suggestion.

"I work around handsome young men every day," she replied lightly, "although I suppose there's always room for a few more. But what do I have to do for you in return?"

"Well, if those two," Gail nodded at her sons, "and that one," she nodded at Stanley, who gave her his best wide-eyed, innocent-blond-farmboy look, "would promise not to pummel the poor man to within an inch of his life, I might actually go out on a date or two myself."

There was stunned silence followed by pandemonium. Beck leaned back in his chair with one arm slung casually on the back of Leyna's chair and watched it all with a grin. Leyna watched the chaos with a puzzled frown.

Beck actually guffawed at Jake's " _I'll kill the son-of-a-bitch_!" and shared a grin with Darcy while Hawkins simply shook his head and sighed.

Gail gave Heather a fondly exasperated look. "See what I mean?"

Heather was giggling helplessly as she nodded, and she shared a warm, amused look with Beck.

When her sons and Stanley finally subsided, Gail added, "I pity you, of course, Heather." At Heather's raised eyebrows, Gail continued. "You not only have my two sons and Stanley, you also have Hawkins and Beck, too. It'll take a very, _very_ brave man to face down all five of them!"

"Screw the men!" Mimi blurted, "he'll have to face _us_ first!" She waved a hand to include all the women at the table.

Heather went off into another paroxysm of giggles. "Well, that does it - I'll have to find myself a secret lover just to protect him from all of you!"

"Oh, like we wouldn't find out anyway," Jake scoffed. "Hawkins has eyes and ears _everywhere_."

Heather mock-glared at Hawkins. "Better not be in my house!" she huffed.

Hawkins slowly smiled his shark-smile and everyone, including Beck, started laughing again, and the momentary discomfort caused by Leyna's question was forgotten.

By everyone except Beck.

That night as they were getting ready for bed, Beck casually asked Leyna, "Why did you ask Heather if there was anybody special in her life?"

"Hmmm?" Leyna asked, frowning as she pulled off her sweater. "Oh - I was curious."

Beck took a moment to appreciate her beauty, then said, "So you weren't trying to make her uncomfortable?"

"No!" She stared wide-eyed at him. "Eddie, why would you think that?"

"Because of my feelings for her."

Leyna looked blank, then she threw back her head and laughed as realization dawned. "Oh, that! I forgot all about _that_!"

Beck blinked at her in surprise. "You did?" He thought about it every day, trying to convince himself that his feelings for Heather were lessening. Someday he knew it would be true. He shook his head and refocused on Leyna, who had finished undressing and had slipped, naked, under the covers. She looked at him expectantly.

"I told you I loved her," Beck said slowly, frowning and making no move to remove his own clothes.

"You don't love her," Leyna scoffed. "You were lonely and you're a good guy, Eddie. You told yourself you loved her when really -" she crawled across the bed to him, slipped her arms around his neck and pressed against him, "you were just horny."

She kissed him passionately but Beck found himself curiously unmoved, and very confused. He kissed her back, but couldn't shake his unease. He gently disengaged and said, "I have to be at work early tomorrow."

Leyna stared at him in disbelief. "Seriously?"

He nodded, not quite meeting her eyes.

She sat back on her heels. "Well - that's a first! You've gotten old while we've been apart."

Beck gave her a sheepish shrug. "It's the price I had to pay in order to have Christmas Day off duty," he said.

He kissed her good-night and left her pouting in the master bedroom. As he slowly and thoughtfully got ready for bed, he wondered what to make of Leyna's casual dismissal of his feelings for Heather.

He wondered if she was right.

*/*/*/*

 _Then - January 2009_

"Eddie, why aren't you a General?"

Beck frowned at Leyna's idle question. She'd been in Jericho for over two months now, and this wasn't the first time she'd asked the question. "Because I'm a field commander," he replied slowly, just like he'd told her several times before.

"You're a Presidential advisor."

"Yes. And a field commander."

Leyna rolled her eyes. "I see your lack of ambition hasn't changed," she said sarcastically.

"Being a field commander was always my ambition," Beck replied quietly.

Leyna pouted at him. "You never did listen to me about this. If you had, you would have been a General long before the Attacks ever happened and heading towards being one of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Or if not that, at the very least you would have been making a ton of money."

Beck sighed, feeling the weight of Leyna's disappointment - then and now - settle on his shoulders.

"You could finally be somebody," she continued, "if you would just...show some ambition and seize the opportunity that's right in front of you!"

Beck stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. He could feel his temper rising and clamped down on it. "Being called a General won't make any difference," he said, his voice tightly calm.

"It'll make a difference in your lifestyle," Leyna argued. "You could get larger rations, and we could move out of this dump." She rolled her eyes again as she indicated their house.

Beck shook his head in surprise. "Larger - _what_?" he asked. "No one gets more rations than anyone else."

"Oh, please," Leyna snorted. "The Greens? The President? They all get more than anybody else."

"No," Beck said quietly, "they don't. Oh, and there is no other house available right now."

Leyna snorted in disbelief, but let the subject drop.

*/*/*/*

They were sitting around Jake and Emily's table, laughing over a story about Jake's misspent youth.

"If your kid is even half as bad as you, Jake...then it'll prove there really is justice in the world. You _so_ deserve a kid just like you!" Heather laughed.

"Hey!" Jake protested. "I was no worse than any other kid my age!"

"Well, if you're comparing yourself to Emily and Stanley - maybe," Heather agreed, "but anyone other than those two, there'd be a different result."

Jake, Emily and Stanley mock-glared at her, and Beck said, "I hate to say it, but it's true, Jake. I used to think Elje was a handful, but you -" he stopped abruptly at Leyna's sharp intake of breath at Elje's name. He looked at her in surprise and found her glaring at him. Everyone froze, looking anywhere but at the two of them and there was a suspended moment of tense, electric silence. Beck cleared his throat. "You take the prize, Jake," he finished weakly.

The conversation resumed with a babble of voices, changing the subject.

They walked home in stony silence. After they were in the house, Leyna said coldly, "Don't _ever_ talk about my daughter to those people again."

She went to her bedroom and firmly closed the door.

*/*/*/*

 _Then - February 2009_

"Eddie, you need to talk to me!"

"I do talk to you!"

"Not about what's bothering you! Or what happens during your day, the things you do. I have no idea what your job's about. Or Hawkins'. Or Jake's. I mean, you're all Presidential advisors but I'm not sure on what - or, quite honestly, why."

"I'm sorry," Beck said. "I - I never thought -"

"I'm not mad, Eddie. I guess I just feel left out a little bit. I mean, I've been here for three months and it's like...I'm not welcome in that part of your life." Her large brown eyes filled with tears. "I just want us to be a family again, and I don't feel like we're there yet."

Beck enfolded her in his arms and patted her back soothingly. "Okay, okay, it's okay," he said. "I'm sorry - I didn't realize you felt this way." He carefully kept his confusion out of his voice. Leyna used to hate hearing about his job Before, and never listened for long if he started to tell her about it. On the rare occasions he had army buddies over, they were constantly reminded there was no shop talk allowed. If they wanted to talk about work, they had to head to the basement, or deck, or back yard so she wouldn't have to listen to it.

But a lot had happened since then, Beck acknowledged, and if hearing about his job would help her feel more...normal, well, that was a small thing to ask. He vowed to begin telling her more about the events of his day - or at least about those events he could actually share with her.

*/*/*/*

"You have a very charming wife, Major."

"Thank you, Madam President. I'll be sure to tell her you think so."

"No need. I've already told her myself."

Beck glanced sharply at her tone of voice. "Oh?" he said cautiously.

The President nodded. "She came to see me yesterday. Looking for a job." She cocked her head and considered him carefully. "Didn't she mention it to you?"

Beck's eyes widened as he stared at the President in consternation. "No. She didn't mention anything to me," he said.

"Well, I naturally told her to talk to you or Heather as the two of you would know what jobs were available in town."

"Naturally," Beck replied faintly.

The President smiled at him. "She said she wasn't interested in the menial jobs she's been offered. In fact, she strongly implied that Heather was deliberately offering her jobs far below her skills and abilities."

Beck blinked again. "Heather would never -"

"I told her that, too." The President waved airily. "But that wasn't the real purpose of her visit."

"I'm almost afraid to know," he said drily.

"She wants me to make you a General."

Beck's eyes widened in disbelief, then they narrowed in anger and he pressed his lips tightly together. He was almost positive steam was coming out of his ears. "What did you tell her?" he asked, his voice tightly controlled.

"I told her I've been trying to make you a General for months."

Beck's closed his eyes and groaned. "I'm sorry -"

The President waved away his apology. "No harm done. In fact, perhaps between the two of us we'll finally convince you to accept that promotion."

Beck sighed. "Ma'am -"

"I know, I know. I'll let it drop. For now. But some day I may pull out the big guns to convince you."

Beck frowned at her, puzzled.

The President gave him a teasing smile. "You know - Gail Green. And if she fails to convince you, I'll sic Heather on you."

Beck groaned and hung his head in defeat.

*/*/*/*

"No."

"Leyna -"

" _No_! And I'm tired of having this discussion! You've brought this up, like, every week since I've been here. Honestly, Eddie, there's no _point_ to a memorial service - we're the only ones here who knew her, and I buried Elje a long time ago."

"Well, I didn't!" Beck snapped. She glared at him, with no sign of softening. He sighed, his shoulder slumping. "I need to say good-bye. Officially. Formally. I need the closure - and I need to honor her and all that she meant to me."

Leyna's expression didn't give an inch. "I don't need any of that," she snapped, "and I'm not going to change my mind." She stood. "She was _my_ daughter, Eddie. Not yours."

Beck reeled from her harsh words and silently watched as she stormed from the room.

*/*/*/*

 _Then - March 2009_

Beck drove back to Jericho in brooding silence. Leyna sat beside him equally silent and brooding, frowning as she looked everywhere but at him.

They entered the house and started getting ready for bed in the same stony silence.

Until it was time to slip under the covers, and then Beck stood beside the bed, and simply looked at Leyna - _truly_ looked at her. She glowered up at him.

"Well?" she snapped. "If you're going to lecture me again, I wish you'd get on with it. I'm tired."

"These people are my friends," Beck said. "They'll be your friends, too, if you'd just give them a chance." Leyna rolled her eyes and Beck sighed. "I know you still feel like a stranger in Jericho -" he said.

"And whose fault is that?" Leyna snapped. "You're always working and even if you aren't, there's nothing to do and no one to do it with! _God_ \- why the President is even here in this godforsaken place - !"

"Because we could keep her safe here," Beck snapped. "And I knew we could trust these people. And..." he hesitated. "When we had to leave Columbus, there was really nowhere else to go."

"Well, it would be nice to be invited to City Hall on occasion - or, here's a thought! To her house! You are - or so you tell me - one of her closest advisors and I've only met her half a dozen times, and then only for five minutes each time. Meanwhile Heather - _Heather!_ \- practically has the run of the place! _Someone_ needs to advise the President on the social niceties!"

Beck frowned at her, suddenly thoughtful. "I don't think the social niceties are high on the President's list of priorities right now." He paused, then he said, "I'll ask her if she'd like to have dinner with us one night."

Leyna's demeanor changed in an instant. She was suddenly all smiles and her eyes were no longer angry. She clambered up on to her knees on the bed and she made her way across the bed to him. She slid her arms around his neck and smiled at him seductively.

"See?" she said. "I just want something exciting to look forward to! Something to break up the monotony of this backwater town." She moved to kiss him but he leaned away. She frowned at him. "Oh, come on, Eddie! I've decided to forgive you for dragging me out to the Richmonds - _again_ \- and forcing me to listen to the same old conversations - _again_! Babies and dating and - ugh! Spare me! Have these people nothing better to talk about?"

Beck watched her expressionlessly. "They're my friends," he said sharply. "They're good people who have gone through hell and they deserve all the happiness they can find. You need to be a bit more understanding with them."

Leyna sat back on her heels. "You know what? I sure didn't miss your pompous righteousness."

He cocked his head to one side. "And I didn't miss your childish need to always have everything revolve around you."

"Oh, here we go," she sighed and crawled back under the covers. She laid down on her side, turning her back to him. "God," she huffed, "wake me when you're done."

Beck stood motionless beside the bed, suddenly struck by how familiar this was and listening to a disbelieving inner voice asking him what the fuck was going on. That inner voice sounded a lot like Heather.

He stiffly turned and quietly left the room.

He had a lot to think about.

*/*/*/*

 _Then - April 2009_

"Leyna - things aren't the way they used to be. I'm in Jericho for the duration. It's my home now - I have no intention of leaving here, and neither does the President."

"Well, then you should at least live a lifestyle that's more suited for your position - and you should be a General, for God's sake!"

"I don't want to _be_ a General!" Beck shouted.

*/*/*/*

Beck had desperately wanted his wife back - and he'd gotten his wish. And none of it was the way he'd expected it to be.

"So, how was your day?" Leyna asked as they sat at the table, eating the supper he'd picked up at Bailey's.

"Good," he said. "I had to go to New Bern again - they're never going to give up, I think - at least not so long as Constantino is still around, making sure they never forget all the "injustices" they've suffered."

"So what's the plan?" she asked. "Are you going to put them under martial law? Get the President to give them a speech? Bomb them into submission?"

Beck gave her a sharp glance at the sarcasm. "We're still discussing what needs to be done," he replied carefully. "And I don't "get" the President to do anything."

"Well, hiding in Jericho behind that wall can't be endearing her to anybody _outside_ Jericho."

Beck chewed a mouthful of food slowly and watched her carefully. "So, what do you think we should do? Send her on a goodwill tour?"

"Well, she's everyone's President, isn't she? Not just Jericho's. And maybe New Bern wouldn't hold on to their resentment so much if you and the others in this town would stop treating them like second-class citizens."

Beck leaned back in his chair and put his utensils down. "Are you trying to tell me my job?" he asked silkily.

Leyna snorted. "Your "job" seems to consist solely of babysitting - this town, the President - I thought you were a trusted advisor to the President and - and she never does a thing you tell her to do! Hell, you're not even a General! That - that scruffy excuse for a sheriff has more power and authority than you do! And look at this _dump_!" She glanced scornfully around their dining room. "You don't even have a decent house!"

Beck cocked his head to one side as she spoke and frowned as he realized he wasn't even angry at her words. In fact, he wasn't...anything.

"You don't like the house?" he asked mildly, just for something to say, still frowning, probing his reactions, wanting to feel _something_. Anything.

"No! I hate this house! I've been telling you that for months! Was this my punishment for being missing for so long? Don't you think I've suffered enough? I want a house that's more suited to your so-called status. Maybe if you acted like you're important, people might actually believe it!"

Beck found himself smiling slightly as he suddenly remembered what she'd told him the first day.

"Is that why you came here?" he asked curiously. "Because you'd heard I was important?"

Leyna opened her mouth, then caught herself. "No," she said.

"You're a better liar than that, Leyna," Beck said quietly.

"Eddie!" she protested, eyes wide, innocent and hurt.

"If I wasn't a Presidential advisor, you would have stayed missing, wouldn't you? You said it yourself - you survived by attaching yourself to powerful or influential men." Beck gave her a slightly bitter, mocking smile. "You must have thought you'd hit the motherlode when you found out where I'd ended up."

Leyna stared at him, her face stricken. "That's not true, Eddie," she whispered. "I didn't know anything until I arrived."

Beck raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"It's true!" she protested. "I wouldn't lie to you!" She covered her face with her hands. "Oh, Eddie - what's happened to us?"

"A terrorist attack, and its aftermath," he replied drily. He sighed. "I think...we both hoped we could just pretend the three years of separation, and the two years of anarchy and war had never happened. But it all happened - and we're simply not the same people. No matter how much we want to be."

"What are you trying to say, Eddie?" Leyna asked, her hands still covering her face.

"I'm saying..." he sighed heavily and she dropped her hands and met his sad, resigned eyes. "I'm saying this isn't working. We both know it. I'm saying...I think we should separate." He reached out and took her hand. "I'm not giving up without a fight - but we can't go on like this. We seem to do nothing but fight - about my career, about Jericho, about Elje -" his voice cracked slightly on her name. "About everything, really," he sighed. "Maybe it'll be better if we separate and take some time to get to know each other again. Maybe rediscover our common ground."

Leyna smiled a bitter half-smile. "So - what? Start dating again?"

Beck shrugged. "Why not?"

Leyna stared off into space then she nodded once. "You're right," she said. "This isn't working out. Separating may be the best thing for us. For now."

"I know you hate the house, but I can move back to the camp easily enough. Otherwise, I'll have to ask Heather if there's something else available for one of us."

Leyna shrugged carelessly. "You can have the house whenever Heather finds a place for me."

Beck nodded stiffly. "I'm sorry," he said softly, sincerely.

She didn't look at him as she nodded.

*/*/*/*

 _Now - May 2009_

They drove in silence for several minutes after Beck fell silent. Heather considered him thoughtfully as he tightly gripped the wheel, his jaw set, grim-faced, angry, sad.

"Of course," he said, deliberately calm, "the dating thing hasn't exactly been working out either." He knew he didn't need to mention that Leyna had just started dating one of Beck's captains a week or so ago. They lived in a small town, after all.

"I'm sorry," she finally said. "Really," she added at his skeptical sidelong glance. "You...you love her." She bit her lip, then said, "Was I - was this -?" she hesitated, gesturing vaguely between the two of them.

"You had nothing to do with it," Beck said a bit more sharply than he'd intended, and Heather subsided into uncomfortable silence, staring out the passenger window, blinking rapidly. He sighed. "Not for her, anyway," he said slowly. Her head snapped around to stare at him but he kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead of them.

It was true, he thought. Leyna never seemed to doubt his devotion to her, and never questioned his feelings for Heather. In fact, she seldom mentioned Heather at all unless they were seeing her socially. Well, except when she discovered Heather and the President had forged a close friendship over the last few months. She'd seemed more upset about that than the possibility he still had strong feelings for Heather.

For him, though, always in the background, lurking under everything he did or thought, was Heather. Or rather, the conscious knowledge that he had to change how he felt about her, and he had to keep his distance. In many ways, it was like nothing had changed. But for some reason, it seemed more difficult when Leyna arrived.

It wasn't like he was overwhelmed with love and lust every time he looked at her. Most of the time, in fact, it was almost easy. His instinctive liking for her never faded, and they worked together each day like they had before; saw each other at Bailey's or at social occasions with their mutual friends. But the only times they were alone were when she gave him her daily reports, and those were quick, focused meetings with little to no eye contact, and she seldom sat down for those meetings and never lingered afterwards. This trip was, in fact, the first time they'd been alone together for any length of time since Leyna had arrived.

Oh, every now and then they forgot themselves, regardless of where they were or who they were with, and one or the other of them would end up with their heart in their eyes - but it didn't happen often. During the day, Beck actually found it quite easy to utilize his military discipline and keep his mind focused on the task at hand. He was never distracted by the quietly pretty brunette currently sitting beside him, biting that full bottom lip that tantalized and fascinated him, with that impossibly adorable frown line on her forehead as she puzzled over his words.

Never.

Really.

*/*/*/*

Beck pulled into the farmyard and parked between the house and the barn. He shut off the humvee and turned to Heather expectantly.

She handed him a clipboard and pen. "Here's your half," she said. "With any luck, we'll be out of here and on to the next in less than an hour."

Beck nodded, running his eyes down the list of items he was to assess. It was time to get to work.

They finished the first farm on schedule but the next two farms took longer as they were occupied with fairly hostile inhabitants. Once Beck and Heather convinced them that they were the expected representatives from Jericho, the assessments were completed without any further delays. As always, the stories of the people she met wrung Heather's heart, while at the same time, their strength, ingenuity and perseverance awed her.

The town itself was next. They met with the mayor and town council, and other, more unofficial, town leaders. They took note of the town's condition and the condition of the citizens and their meetings went long into the night and continued the next day until evening. In the end, as representatives of Jericho, they'd agreed to trade certain supplies and to send a team to finish assessing the area. As representatives of the President, they invited the mayor to bring one other town leader to Jericho to meet with her.

They left early the next day, with three more farms to assess on the way home.

As they left the town behind, Beck reflected with some amusement that this was the first time he and Heather had really seen each other since they'd arrived two days before.

*/*/*/*

They drove into the second farm in tired, companionable silence. Beck sighed as he pulled up near the barn and Heather laughed.

"Only two more farms to go, then we can get back to Jericho and you won't need to look at another assessment checklist for...at least a week," she said with wide-eyed sincerity.

He gave her a disgusted look. "You say that now," he groused, and she laughed again.

"Come on," she said. "The sooner we get started -"

"The sooner we get done. I know."

"I have to admit," Heather said as they got out of the humvee, "I'm a little disappointed by this field trip."

He gave her a surprised look. "It's been more successful than we had any right to expect," he argued.

She nodded, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Sure. But you have to admit - it's been a little boring. Based on this trip, you may have been a little over-protective all these months."

Beck mock-glared at her, his mouth twitching as he sternly repressed a smile. "Boring is never bad. It happens so seldom."

She'd finished the interior of the house - sound, stripped bare of contents - and was ready to begin the exterior inspection. She saw Beck walking out of the barn as she walked around the far side of the house. She'd gone only two steps when she was deafened by the huge boom of an explosion, and the ground shook beneath her feet, causing her to stumble as she spun around.

She dropped the clipboard as she ran around the house, and stopped short, her eyes wide with horror, when she saw the barn was reduced to scattered splinters of wood and debris, and Beck was nowhere to be seen.

Her heart pounding, her eyes wide with desperation, she yelled Beck's name as she pelted towards the spot where she'd seen him last. As she rushed around the humvee, barely registering the heavy beam resting on it, denting its roof and hood, she saw Beck face-down and motionless on the ground, covered with grit, with blood staining the ground beneath his left leg.

She fell to her knees beside him, frantically checking for a pulse and sobbing with relief when she felt the strong beat beneath her fingertips. She turned her attention to his bloody left leg, pulling the cloth of his trousers away and quickly assessing the extent of the damage. She quickly saw that while he was bleeding heavily from a cluster of a half dozen deep cuts on his upper thigh, it was obvious his femoral artery hadn't been hit. She quickly shed her coat and whipped her t-shirt over her head. She shivered in the cool spring air as she folded the t-shirt then pressed it firmly against his wounds. He stirred under her hands, groaning.

"Don't move too much," she ordered. "I don't know if you're hurt anywhere else."

He groggily turned his head, his eyes still closed, his forehead furrowed in pain. "Well," he said thickly, "actually, I _hurt_ all over."

She chuckled soggily. She kept a steady pressure on his leg, his blood warming her cold hands. She realized with a shock that she was shivering violently, kneeling beside him in her jeans and bra.

"Can you move your arms?" she asked, her teeth starting to chatter from cold and reaction.

"Yeah," he said, panting, trying to ride the pain.

"I need you to hold this against your leg for a minute," she said. He opened his eyes and reached down to hold the cloth against his leg.

She quickly wiped her hands on her jeans then scrambled into her coat, sighing with relief as she buttoned it up against the chilly wind. Then she went back to applying pressure to his leg.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

She glanced up and found him looking at her, his worried, dark eyes dazed with pain and shock.

"It looks worse than it is, I think," she said. "The bleeding's already slowed down."

"Just a flesh wound then," he quipped.

She smiled at him. "Barely grazed you," she agreed.

He chuckled, then grimaced from the pain. "Let's get me out of here," he said.

Heather glanced at the humvee. "I'm not sure that's going to be possible," she said. "Let's get you into the house, anyway, out of the wind." She lifted the sodden t-shirt and saw the bleeding had slowed considerably. "There's an emergency kit in the humvee but I don't think there's anything in there big enough for this," she said.

"We'll worry about that in a minute," Beck said.

He gained his feet with Heather's help, then they slowly made their way to the house, where she got him down on the floor with his back against the wall. She checked his leg and saw he was bleeding again, although not as badly as before. He hissed as she once more pressed the t-shirt against his wound, then he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.

She quickly assessed him. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" she asked.

He shook his head, his eyes still closed. "I have a headache, though," he said.

"I don't doubt it," she said drily.

She glanced around the house. They were in the bare living room, sitting on a very dusty carpet. There was a fireplace, and - thanks to the explosion - there was a lot of wood around to use as fuel. Although it was May, it was unseasonably cold and they'd at least be able to stay warm if they had to wait for the cavalry to arrive. If it was even safe to stay here.

"Do you think whoever booby trapped the barn is still around?" she asked abruptly.

"I doubt it," Beck replied calmly. "If they were, we'd both already be dead."

"Well, that's...comforting." He opened his eyes and smiled at her. "In a way," she said grudgingly.

He chuckled, then winced. He looked down to where she was still applying pressure to his leg then back up at her.

"How bad is it?" he asked again.

"You're lucky," she said, trying to sound calm, cool and knowledgeable. "It could have hit your artery. Or you could have been hit -" she stopped abruptly, unable and unwilling to even put the possibility into words.

"I know," he said. He glanced down. "It didn't even really bleed that much," he said.

"It bled enough," Heather muttered, suddenly focused on the livid blood on her hands. _His_ blood. The red seemed to hurt her eyes and she blinked furiously.

He covered her hands with one of his and she lifted her eyes to his. His were dark with pain but no longer as dazed; hers were wide with fear. He smiled at her.

"I'm going to be okay," he said firmly. "Besides, I'm feeling better already. Just a graze, remember."

She nodded, her lower lip trembling.

"Hey," he said, touching her cheek, "really. Everything's going to be fine."

"I know," she said, her voice breaking. She swallowed hard.

He searched her face, then he nodded once. "Okay. Is there anything that can be used as a tourniquet?" he asked. "Or something to at least tie that...what is that?" he frowned.

"My t-shirt," Heather said.

He blinked, then said, "Ah. Anything we can use to tie it against my leg? Or there may be something in the emergency kit."

"Maybe," she nodded, "but just in case..." She frowned as she glanced around the house and tried to remember if she'd seen anything at all that would be useful. Every cupboard and nook she'd looked in had been empty. Then she blushed as she got an idea.

"Hold this," she said, then she wiped her hands on her jeans again, then quickly removed her bra from under her coat. She blushed even deeper at Beck's wide-eyed, stunned and rather fascinated look. At least he was no longer seemed as dazed with shock and pain, she thought. She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant in total contradiction to her red face. "We should be able to make this work...somehow," she said.

"I'm not complaining," he replied, then flinched as she wrapped the bra around his leg and tightened it to hold the t-shirt in place. Heather wasn't entirely sure he'd flinched because she'd hurt him or because she'd brushed her hand against his inner thigh.

She sat back on her heels and checked her handiwork. She bit back a chuckle.

Beck glanced down.

"You realize Jake will never let you live this down, right?" Heather noted.

Beck groaned in mock dismay. "On the other hand, it does the job."

Heather nodded. She glanced down at the blood smeared on her hands and shuddered as she once again wiped them on her now-filthy jeans.

"Look," Beck said, wincing as he shifted to a more comfortable position, then started to undo his coat and the uniform shirt he wore beneath it. "I have two shirts on. Take one of mine - you must -" he paused, meeting her guileless blue eyes, before his gaze dropped to what he knew was her bare chest, demurely hidden behind her buttoned coat. He swallowed and forced his eyes back to hers. "You must be cold," he said hoarsely.

She blushed again. "You must be feeling better," she teased weakly, "but you are still a married man, Major Beck."

"I know," he said huskily, "but I'm also just a man." He looked at her like a little boy looking at his first Christmas tree. His look of awed fascination drew her and she swayed towards him before she caught herself. She closed her eyes and sat back.

"I'm sorry," Beck said softly. "I never meant to hurt you or make you uncomfortable."

"If only you would," she sighed. "But when you look at me like that, I forget your wife is back, and I'm afraid one day," she opened her eyes and met his gaze, "I'm not going to care."

They stared at each other and neither made any effort to hide their feelings from the other. Beneath the mutual child-like fascination was dark, swirling passion, and neither could look away.

"Beck," Heather groaned softly, "you can't look at me like that."

"I can't help it," he sighed. "And at this moment, I can't care."

Heather's eyes filled with tears and her shoulders slumped. Someone had sabotaged the barn, whether it had been intended for them or not. She had his blood on her hands and clothes. She could have lost him, and it suddenly seemed criminal that she'd never actually had him.

She didn't know who moved first, but when their lips met it didn't feel wrong.

It felt like coming home.

*/*/*/*

They kissed for hours - or only seconds. Both felt equally true.

It was awkward and painful and clumsy and perfect, and Heather thought her heart was going to beat its way right out of her chest. The kisses ranged from achingly tender to bruisingly demanding and they were all wonderful. She gasped against his mouth when she felt the cool air against her bare flesh as Beck undid her coat, and she jumped when his icy fingers lightly touched her waist, skimming around the waistband of her jeans to warm themselves in the small of her back.

They shared intimate laughter when he yelped as she returned the favor, burrowing her cold hands beneath his clothes to stroke his back.

Then he was touching her breasts, caressing her bare skin, cupping her breasts in his palms, gently rolling her peaked nipples between his fingers. She watched, fascinated, as he looked at her in wonder even as his face was stark with dark desire. She realized someone really _could_ worship her with his eyes, feeling her limbs turn to molten liquid under his gaze. She watched as he leaned forward, and she arched to meet him as his mouth closed around her nipple. The sight of his dark head against her pale skin was almost as erotic as the pull of his mouth. She cupped the back of his head with one hand, holding him close, moaning as he suckled harder, his tongue swirling patterns that left her dizzy and weak and desperately aching for something more - something he couldn't give her - a fact brought home to both of them when she bucked against him and jostled his wounded leg. He threw his head back, accidentally banging it against the wall. He gritted his teeth against the pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Heather panted, frantically checking the back of his head and then ensuring the makeshift bandage was still in place.

He shook his head. "It's okay," he bit out. He opened eyes dazed by both renewed pain and lust. He grimaced. "I'd forgotten how we got here in the first place."

Heather nodded, her own eyes wide and glazed with lust.

"As much as I want to continue this," his eyes dropped to her naked torso and he swallowed, "we have to stop."

Heather nodded even though her body was thrumming with tension, already begging for release, for satisfaction, for his body to make good on its promises.

Beck wondered how he would bear it. He was tempted - so tempted - to say the hell with it and make love with her no matter the pain. Then he frowned and glanced down at his leg. Her eyes followed his and she frowned as well.

"You're bleeding again."

He nodded and sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, watching sadly as she hastily rebuttoned one button on her coat then reached over to remove the blood-soaked bra and t-shirt.

"It's not too bad," she said after a moment of inspecting the cuts.

"No," he agreed, gritting his teeth as she replaced the t-shirt and re-tied the bra around his leg.

"I should go get that emergency kit," she said as she worked, "and see if the humvee is still drivable."

Beck nodded, then he shrugged out of his coat and removed his uniform shirt. He held it out to her.

"Here," he said, his voice low and still husky with desire. "It's too cold for you to be..." He blinked and looked away then glanced back almost shyly.

She smiled slowly, a sweet, pleased and amused smile. She nodded. Her look changed. Became a heady mix of confidence and shyness as she slowly unbuttoned her coat and shrugged it off. His mouth went dry as he took in the sight of her bare breasts, nipples peaked from the chilly air. His hand shook slightly as she reached out, took his shirt and slipped it on. She slowly buttoned it from the bottom up, and Beck was positive he whimpered with each button that hid her body from view.

He sighed when she finished buttoning it. Their eyes met and he saw the uncertainty lurking in hers.

"I never realized," he said slowly, "that someone putting clothes _on_ could also be so...erotic."

She blushed furiously even as she smiled sweetly at him and he wondered, not for the first time, just how experienced she really was. She cleared her throat, clambered to her feet and snatched up her coat.

"I - I'll go get the emergency kit," she mumbled as she beat a hasty retreat outside.

She seemed to spend forever outside, and Beck knew she was probably horrified at what they'd been doing. The cold spring air had probably shocked her to her senses, and he both cursed his wounded leg and blessed it. Cursed it because if he hadn't been hurt, he could be making love with Heather the way he'd dreamed about for years now. Blessed it, because this wasn't a dream, it was reality - and his reality included a wife, even if they _were_ separated.

He was an honorable man, he reminded himself...at least he was _most_ of the time.

Heather re-entered the house with the emergency kit and settled herself beside him, very much looking like the last few minutes hadn't happened. She frowned as she rummaged through the plastic container.

He cleared his throat before asking, "What's wrong?"

"Good thing you're injured," she said.

" _What_?"

She met his puzzled frown with a wicked smile. "No condoms."

His jaw dropped and then they were laughing, laughing so hard they were crying and his laughter was interspersed with "ow" each time his leg reminded him of the reason they were sitting in this dusty, abandoned house in the first place. As their laughter subsided, she crawled forward and dropped a quick kiss on his mouth.

"Now, let's see if we can do something about your leg."

In the end, she cleaned the wounds with antiseptic and bandaged his leg properly, a process that left him shaking, sweating and gritting his teeth. As she tended his wounds, she told him the humvee was damaged but salvageable - and drivable. When he was ready, she helped him gain his feet, limp outside and into the vehicle.

They drove in comfortable silence, a silence that slowly became more uncomfortable and tense the closer they got to Jericho.

Heather finally glanced at him. "Nothing needs to change when we get back, you know," she blurted.

He blinked and turned his head to frown at her. "I'm sorry?"

"I - I'm not sorry we kissed -"

"We did more than just kiss," Beck said with a smile, his voice low and silky, and she shivered, remembering another kiss and a seductive, honey-toned voice stealing away her good sense.

"I know." She looked away, embarrassed. "I'm just trying to say - we can pretend nothing happened."

"Why?"

She sighed and smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "Look," she said forcefully, "I'm not going to - to - to - I'm not going to have an affair with you...all evidence to the contrary."

"I know."

"You still love Leyna and you want to work things out with her. I understand that. We can blame this - that - this -" she gestured vaguely and Beck tried not to laugh, "on your blood loss and my relief you hadn't been hurt worse." She pressed her lips tightly together and kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead.

Beck stared ahead in silence. "Things can't go on like this," he finally said. "It's not fair to any of us. Choices have to be made."

She nodded, but said nothing, her mind whirling, trying to understand what he meant. But Beck wasn't the only one who had to make choices, she thought. It was time for her to make her choices as well. She didn't want to give up her job but the events of the day had shown her she had no self-control when it came to him, and now she knew she'd take advantage of the first opportunity to touch him or kiss him or - yes - make love with him regardless of the consequences. She was an honorable woman, she thought. Except when it came to _him_ , apparently.

They returned to Jericho that afternoon after travelling the rest of the way in a silence tinged with sadness.

*/*/*/*

Leyna didn't pick him up when he was released from the med-center - not that he was there long. Heather had done a good job cleaning the wounds, and Kenchy simply checked her handiwork, re-cleaned and stitched the gashes, checked the rest of him, then gave him some precious antibiotics and told him to go home. Heather had promised to send word to Leyna to come get him, and then disappeared. His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise as he watched her leave the hospital without a backwards glance.

He'd been fooling himself, he knew. His feeling for her hadn't faded at all; instead they'd grown and become more uncontrollable. He and Heather had almost crossed the line a few hours ago - oh, hell, who was he kidding? They _had_ crossed the line, and there was no going back. He swallowed as he remembered the way she looked at him, her eyes dark with passion. He remembered their kisses; how beautiful her breasts were; the feel of her skin beneath his hands.

He needed to talk to Leyna, tell her...he paused outside Bailey's leaning heavily on the cane the med-center had loaned him as he wiped a weary hand over his face. He needed to tell her he couldn't fight it anymore. He needed to tell her he loved another woman more than he loved her.

He needed to make a choice. Rather, he needed to make his choice known.

He heard his name being called. He glanced around to see Jake and Hawkins striding up to him.

"Good God," Jake said. "What happened to you?"

"A bomb in a barn," Beck sighed. "Heather and I - she's fine; nowhere near the bomb when it went off - we got back about an hour or so ago. We were _very_ glad to see the walls of Jericho today."

Jake raised an eyebrow, but Beck's expression warned he was in no mood for teasing or questions.

"Well, glad you're back," Hawkins said briskly. "Come on - we need to talk."


	3. Part Three: Loyalty and Betrayal

**Part Three: Loyalty and Betrayal**

 _Now - May 2009_

Jake and Hawkins didn't give Beck any hint about what they needed to talk about as the three men walked slowly - and, in Beck's case, rather painfully - to Beck's house. By the time they got there, Beck's leg felt like it was on fire, and he was wishing Kenchy had given him painkillers rather than antibiotics. Jake warned him everyone except Leyna was at the house waiting for them, so he wasn't surprised to walk - or rather, limp - into a house full of people.

Gail immediately fussed over him before shooing him off to get cleaned up. He sighed when he considered the stairs and Heather hastened over to help him up the stairs. "But one of the boys will have to help you in the shower," she quipped then she blushed. "Sorry," she said. "I wasn't thinking."

He grinned at her as they made the second floor landing and leaned towards her before he caught himself. He needed to end things with Leyna before he said anything to Heather and definitely before he kissed her again. He owed Leyna that much, if not more. And Heather deserved to have no doubts when he came to her with hat - and heart - in hand.

But his eyes broadcasted his regret when he put a little distance between them.

Heather dropped her gaze from his, shifting uncomfortably. She muttered something about letting him get cleaned up and bolted down the stairs, blushing furiously. Her friends noted her heightened color with interest, but kindly said nothing. Heather noticed the significant glances exchanged between the women, and knew they'd be getting the full story out of her later. .

Half an hour later, everyone was sitting in Beck's living room, attentively listening to Hawkins.

"While you were gone," Hawkins said, "another convoy was attacked."

Beck raised an eyebrow, watching him steadily. "The convoy we'd identified?" he asked.

Hawkins nodded, and turned to the others.

"As you know, we've been fighting a guerrilla war for the last six months with a group or groups we assumed were road gangs. We've also been continuing to ferret out any remaining pockets of ASA resistance. Most of those pockets have simply been placed under surveillance while some were..." he glanced at Beck who remained stone-faced, "eliminated."

"This most recent attack has just confirmed something we've suspected for awhile now. We," Hawkins included Beck and Jake in his story with a gesture, "realized very quickly that these attacks were always specific. _Too_ specific."

Stanley frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that every attack for the last six months has been targeted. Specific convoys and occasionally individual vehicles that were carrying something of particular strategic significance."

"Well...wouldn't that be the point?" Stanley asked, confused.

Beck, Jake and Hawkins smiled a little.

Beck said, "Yes - except we've always had multiple convoys, including decoys, running at the same time and using different routes. When these attacks began to escalate six months ago, we increased the numbers, put more soldiers on them as guards, gave them more weapons and ammunition - and more often than not, the attackers would hit one of the decoys, or a convoy carrying cargo with limited value to them. For the last four months, they've never failed to hit the right one."

"That's impossible," Mary said, "unless -" She stopped abruptly, eyes widening as the magnitude of what was being discussed dawned on her.

"And," Beck continued, "while these guerrillas were unsuccessful the majority of the time, they've also managed to capture a convoy every now and then. That success ratio is beginning to rise. The attacks are better planned, better supplied, better coordinated, and always on target. The attackers are working smoothly together - they're working as a team."

"So they've learned to work together," Emily shrugged, one hand absently rubbing against her stomach, swollen with the baby due within the next six weeks. "That's not so surprising after two and half years."

"Considering there are supposed to be several road gangs operating in the area - at least according to Hawkins' sources - it seems odd that every group attacks smoothly. Like clockwork. With subtle similarities in tactics."

"Constantino has finally become a leader of men?" Eric suggested, only half-joking.

"Or he's finally leading people already trained in military tactics," Hawkins replied thoughtfully.

"Which would mean -" Jake trailed off, as everyone stared at him. "Ravenwood," he finished flatly.

"Wait a minute - that doesn't make sense," Heather protested. "Constantino hates Ravenwood - that's why he declared war on Jericho in the first place, because he blamed us for what Ravenwood did to them."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Jake suggested. "He blames Jericho more - always did."

"Or," Beck said, "he doesn't know they're Ravenwood."

"Or both," Jake sighed.

"Hell, all we can do is speculate," Eric said, throwing up his hands in frustration and pacing Beck's living room.

"This is all well and good," Heather said, "but what are we going to do about it? And why the secrecy? We're not insurgents anymore - we can deal with this in broad daylight now."

Beck, Jake and Hawkins shared a glance. "Because they know too much," Beck reminded her. He frowned, lips pressed tightly together, and shook his head. "We have a mole - probably more than one, and until we find them all, we _can't_ operate in broad daylight." He glanced at each person in the room then met Hawkins' steady gaze. "Right now, the only people we know we can trust are the people in this room. And, of course, the President. We've all gone through hell together in one way or another, and none of you would betray Jericho or the President to _anyone_ , least of all to Constantino or Ravenwood or whatever's left of the ASA."

They sat in solemn silence, absorbing everything they'd been told. Then Heather looked at him with clear blue eyes and said, "What about Leyna?"

*/*/*/*

 _Then - April 2009_

Beck's furious gaze never wavered from Hawkins.

"She's still new to Jericho," he replied, his voice clear and firm. "She doesn't know enough to be a spy. Besides, she's too impulsive, too impetuous to keep from being caught." Beck had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Even _he_ didn't truly believe what he was saying - but he also couldn't believe what Hawkins was suggesting.

"But can you trust her?" Hawkins asked.

"She's my _wife_!"

"Who has suddenly been found after being missing for three years. Found in a refugee camp run by former employees of J&R. And since her arrival, we've had an increase in guerrilla activity and an increase in information leaking to the outside of the wall. So I'll ask you again: _can you trust her_?"

Beck glared at Hawkins and wondered if he was once more being played by this enigmatic and incredibly dangerous man in front of him. He wondered if Hawkins had another hidden agenda, a black ops mission that needed a scapegoat and Leyna just happened to be someone convenient to be blamed - especially since she and Beck had recently separated. His mind whirled from one thought to another, thinking of things Leyna had said and done, thinking of things Hawkins had said and done, wondering who - or what - to believe.

He suddenly remembered Heather, almost two years ago now, fervently telling him he knew there was something wrong with the ASA. Begging him to listen to his instincts and trust them, trust her, trust the people of Jericho.

He took a deep breath.

"I don't know," he said hoarsely. "I don't know if I can trust her." He met Hawkins' eyes with an effort and said, "Put her on the list."

*/*/*/*

 _Now - May 2009_

Beck met Heather's eyes steadily. "She's on the list of possibilities."

No one said a word.

After a moment, Heather asked, "Why do you think there's more than one?"

"Because it's not just the convoys. Other information has been leaking out - information about some of our more commonly known security protocols, the President's movements, even the Ranger's training program." Beck shook his head. "Fairly simple information to gather, nothing too damaging to us, and fairly simple things to change or protect. But the fact the information is being leaked is a problem and has to be stopped."

"So what do you want from us?" Stanley asked.

Hawkins smiled. "Like Beck said, we made a list of everyone who would know about these items. We all have contact with at least one of the people on the list. We're assigning certain people to each of you - and a different piece of intelligence for each target. We'll see which pieces make their way outside of Jericho. Keep in mind, this isn't a one-time thing. We have to keep this up until we're sure we've found all the moles."

Everyone nodded, faces grim.

Hawkins turned to Beck. "You have Leyna, of course," he said.

Beck's eyes snapped to Heather.

Heather met his gaze, puzzled by his expression. He blinked and turned his attention back to Hawkins.

"Of course," he said, and silently cursed the timing. He'd have to delay his talk with Leyna until this little sting operation was over. He briefly considered talking to her anyway - she was casually dating one of his captains, after all. He discarded the idea almost immediately. Finding who was leaking information was first priority, and he couldn't do anything that would limit his contact with Leyna any more than it was already. He glanced at Heather.

Damn it.

*/*/*/*

 _Now - June 2009_

In the end, it was easy.

Everyone did their job, leaking their carefully constructed piece of intel to their assigned targets, and then left Hawkins to work his own network of informants. It was delicate business, and Beck decided ruefully that he actually almost missed the days when all he had to worry about was how much firepower the other side had aimed at his head, and where they were hiding.

In the last few weeks, Leyna had moved on from Beck's captain to the President's press secretary, to a congressman - one of the few who'd escaped Columbus with the President. She told him she still wanted to save their marriage, but she thought she may as well take advantage of their separation to enjoy a little more social life than Beck could manage to give her. Even though he knew their relationship was over - whether Heather still wanted him or not - Leyna's words still stung. He suspected that had been her intention.

He spent a lot of time thinking about Leyna, thinking about their life Before, thinking about the woman he knew now. Sometimes he wondered if he'd been blind Before, or if the Attacks, Elje's death and the life Leyna had led for two years had changed her. Sometimes Beck wondered if he'd ever meant anything to her; sometimes he wondered if their entire marriage had been built on illusion. Sometimes he wondered how his own feelings could have changed so much.

Mostly he wondered if she was a spy. And what he would do about it if she was.

Four weeks after they began their sting operation, Hawkins walked into Beck's office. He didn't have to say a word; Beck could see the truth written all over his face. Even though he'd braced himself for the worst, his stomach still roiled and the room seemed to tilt. He tossed the pen he was holding on to the desk and leaned back in his chair with a loud sigh. He met Hawkins' eyes with a mixture of anger, resignation and sadness.

"Are you going to say I told you so?" Beck asked Hawkins bluntly.

"No need; I'm sure you're saying it to yourself," Hawkins replied.

Beck gave a reluctant chuckle and motioned for Hawkins to pull up a chair. Beck leaned forward, his hands loosely clasped together on the desk and thoughtfully considered Hawkins.

"Now what?" Beck asked.

Hawkins slowly smiled his predator's smile. Beck sighed and hung his head.

*/*/*/*

Heather looked at him with a mixture of disbelief, horror and sympathy. She reached out without thinking and put her hand over his where it rested on her kitchen table.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I - I don't know what else to say."

Beck gave her a half-smile, turning his hand to squeeze her fingers. "That's all you need to say," he said. Their eyes met, and Heather's eyes widened at the warmth and affection she saw in his face. She flushed and quickly dropped her gaze. She tried to pull her hand away but he tightened his grip. She frowned as she raised her eyes to his.

"Heather," he said, "I want to talk to you about something else." And there it was again - that warm, honey-smooth voice that always seemed to go right past her thinking brain and straight to her hormones. She shivered.

It wasn't fair, she thought helplessly. For the last few weeks, she'd been _so good_ at making sure they were never alone together, and seldom near each other when they saw each other socially. She intended to move on; she was _going_ to move on...even if it killed her.

He tightened his grip on her fingers and she refocused on what he was saying rather than how he was saying it.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked cautiously, her stomach sinking. In her experience, conversations that started out with "I want to talk to you" never seemed to end well.

"I'd intended to talk to Leyna first, but..." he glanced down at their hands, then back at her, suddenly vulnerable and uncertain. "I'm going to ask Leyna for a divorce."

Heather caught her breath, her eyes widening as she stared at him.

"I was planning on talking to her as soon as we returned from our successfully disastrous road trip." He gave her a slight smile and she blushed and smiled back. "Of course, with the need to find the mole, or moles, I put it off so I'd have a legitimate reason for sharing my piece of intel with her. Now," he sighed and grimaced, "now Hawkins wants me to continue feeding her misinformation so we can trace it back to whoever she's working for."

Heather frowned. "I can understand that," she agreed slowly.

Beck nodded. "So can I. Damn it. Hawkins also thinks we might be able to turn this to our advantage, and - as he put it - you never waste a resource. Leyna's now a potential resource, whether she knows it or not."

Heather leaned back in her chair. "And that means -"

Beck nodded. "No talk; no divorce." He looked at her, his heart in his eyes. "No you," he said softly. "Assuming you still want me, of course," he added a bit anxiously.

She stared off into space and Beck found himself focused on her mouth as she bit her lip. He swallowed and forced his eyes back to hers.

She slowly smiled at him, then she stood and walked around the table to stand in front of him. She took his face in her hands and kissed him.

Both their shirts were off, and Beck was starting to open Heather's jeans as he pressed her down on the table, when the doorbell rang, startling them both. They froze, staring at each with eyes wide with consternation.

"Is the door locked?" Beck panted.

She shook her head. "And if that's Jake, he'll ring once more then walk in."

Beck swore softly, as he stood back and helped her off the table. They scrambled to replace their clothes as the doorbell rang again and Jake walked in, calling Heather's name. Jake came to an abrupt stop when he came into the kitchen to find Heather and Beck with heightened color and laughing uncontrollably.

He eyed them quizzically. "I...don't want to know, do I?"

*/*/*/*

"We'll keep the moles we've identified under surveillance," Hawkins told the group gathered at Gail's house, "and use them as tools to disseminate information that will help us, or help us identify and target who these people are working for."

"How are we going to control what information gets leaked out?" Heather asked.

"By restricting who has access to it," Beck said. "But we'll also be...adjusting information on occasion to meet our objectives." He looked proudly at them. "You all did your jobs like pros. We wouldn't have been able to get this done this quickly without you."

"No problem," Stanley grinned, clapping his hands and rubbing them briskly together. "It was easy!"

Hawkins and Beck shared a speaking glance. "Too easy," Beck said.

They all froze, eyes wide.

"They weren't really hiding their tracks," Hawkins explained. "They - whoever "they" are - wanted us to _know_ they had access to our information. They may even have wanted us to find their informants. Which is why we need to trace the network back to its heart."

Mimi frowned. "Why would they want us to find their operatives? Wouldn't that defeat the purpose?"

"Not if the purpose is psychological warfare," Beck replied. "They're telling us they have eyes and ears everywhere. That even within the walls of Jericho, we're not safe. That the President isn't safe. And we can trust no one."

The group absorbed this in silence, then Eric quipped, "They're not from around here, then, or they'd know better."

*/*/*/*

That night, Heather and Beck agreed the safety of Jericho and the President came first, and they had to maintain their distance until they could identify the people Leyna was working for.

At least in public.

And, they ruefully admitted, in private. They'd proven they had no self-control - at the moment - but they'd also never been able to hide their connection to and affection for each other. There was no way they'd be able to hide an affair, especially not while Beck still needed Leyna to trust him and maintain a relatively close relationship with him.

It was disappointing, yet they were both happier than they'd ever been. They _would_ be together - they just had to be patient.

*/*/*/*

Leyna confidently walked into Bailey's and straight to Beck's table. She dropped a quick kiss on his lips then slid into the chair across the table from him. Beck cocked his head to one side as he looked at her, probing his feelings. She was undeniably beautiful and he was still in love with the woman he remembered. But the Leyna sitting across the table from him wasn't that woman anymore. He now wondered if she'd ever been that woman, or if he'd been so blinded with love with her he never saw the truth of her.

He'd been hurt when he realized she'd only come to Jericho because he was a Presidential advisor. He'd been sick and angry when he discovered she was spying for parties unknown. And yes, he'd even been a little jealous when she began dating his captain after only being separated from him for a couple of weeks. Knowing what he knew now, he could see she'd been circling closer and closer to the seat of power - as close to the President as she could get.

It made her anger at Heather's friendship with the President much more understandable.

She was close to the President now, Beck thought. At least socially.

He and Hawkins had decided to keep the President in the dark about the moles since the three they had identified weren't privy to sensitive information about the President. They also didn't want anyone tipped off before they were sure they had identified all of the moles in Jericho.

Now as he listened to Leyna tell him about the dinners with the President and the parties with other members of congress and senators, he wondered if they needed to revisit that decision, put the President on her guard not only with Leyna but with everyone in her government.

Beck sometimes missed the days when all he had to worry about was putting down insurgents.

*/*/*/*

"Tell me, Heather - what do you think of Leyna?"

Heather choked slightly on her tea and stared at the President in consternation. They were sitting in Heather's living room, and had been talking about nothing and everything, laughing a little and enjoying some precious down-time. The President's security detail stood guard in discreet places outside the house.

"I realize that's a difficult question, considering how you feel about her husband," the President added.

Heather blushed furiously. "How did you -"

"Small town, remember? Besides, it's written all over your face when you talk about him. Or even think about him." The President gave her an understanding smile and a sympathetic look. "Under other circumstances, I'd be quite envious of you. To love that deeply is...a true gift." The President stared off into space, melancholy and sadness on her face. Then she shook herself out of her reverie.

"I'm not asking to make you uncomfortable," she said briskly. "I'm asking for your honest opinion."

Heather hesitated, her mind whirling. She knew she couldn't tell the President the truth; they'd all been told in no uncertain terms that the President was not to be told until they'd identified who the moles were working for. But she was a bad liar, and decided to stick to the truth as much as possible. "I - I'm not sure how unbiased I can be," she said honestly. "I - I do have very strong feelings for Beck which - may color my - my opinion."

"I understand," the President nodded. "I still want to know."

"I don't trust her," Heather blurted. "I - I can't even really say why. And she may just be a very private person, much like Beck is - but she - she never seems to really answer any questions. I'm assuming Beck knows the details of where she's been and what's happened to her in the last two years, but - but -" Heather struggled to find the words.

"She's too smooth," the President said. "Her answers are too glib."

"Rehearsed," they said simultaneously.

They exchanged an understanding look.

"What do you think she's up to?" Heather asked.

The President glanced around and leaned forward. "I think it has something to do with me," she whispered.

*/*/*/*

Jake opened the door and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Heather," he greeted, stepping aside to let her in.

She nodded and thanked him, then she stood hesitating in his doorway, anxiously wringing her hands.

Jake's eyebrows rose slightly higher. "What's going on?" he asked curiously.

"I got a call about twenty minutes ago," she said. "There's a girl in a town in Michigan - she says her name is Elje Beck. I've told them to take her to Stanley and Mimi's. She'll be here the day after tomorrow."

*/*/*/*

 _Now - July 2009_

"It can't be her."

"Beck -"

"Heather, Leyna told me - she said Elje died in her arms. _It can't be her!_ "

" _Beck_! She looks like Leyna."

The silence was absolute.

Shocked.

Disbelieving.

 _Enraged._

Heather watched him anxiously. She could see him struggling to control himself; it was just a matter of time before he exploded.

"Beck," she said firmly, trying to reach him, to bring him out of the dark place he was in.

He looked at her, but Heather knew he wasn't really seeing her.

" _Beck_ ," she said again, more sharply. He blinked and focused on her. "I'll drive you to Stanley and Mimi's."

He nodded jerkily and rose to his feet.

*/*/*/*

"Elje?"

Beck's voice was infinitely tender, loving - afraid. The last time he'd seen Elje, she'd been nine years old. Now she was thirteen, and he was afraid. Afraid to hope, to believe, until the gangly girl-child sitting in the bedroom raised her eyes to his, caution warring with relief and hope in her eyes.

"Papa Ed?" she asked, faintly questioning.

He nodded, too choked with emotion to speak. Instead he silently opened his arms to her and with a small sob, she rushed to him, threw herself in his arms and began to cry, the noisy, uninhibited sobs of a very young child waking from a nightmare. Beck's shoulders shook with his own emotions as he held her close. Heather glanced at Stanley and Mimi, and they all silently withdrew.

He left the bedroom a long time later, his face drawn, the bewildered look in his eyes breaking Heather's heart. He sat down heavily at the table and stared at nothing for long, silent moments. Finally, he shook his head and blinked. He suddenly seemed to realize he wasn't alone in the room and finally looked at them.

He said, "She's in a world of hurt - but she's alive. And I have her again." He rubbed his face with both hands. He gave Stanley and Mimi a tired smile. "Thank you," he said softly, sincerely. "Thank you for letting her come here first."

"That's what friends are for," Stanley shrugged.

Mimi glanced at the closed bedroom door, her eyebrows raised in question.

"She's sleeping," Beck said. "She's exhausted." He sighed heavily. "If she could stay here until..." He trailed off, staring at nothing again, then shook his head and continued. "I need to talk to Leyna before I bring Elje into Jericho. Elje hasn't told me very much," he gave them all a twisted smile, "but I'm very much afraid we may need to protect her from her own mother."

Heather drew in a sharp, shocked breath.

Beck turned to her, looking at her but not truly seeing her. "Could you stay here? With Elje? I'd rather not let her out of my sight, but I need to deal with this. I'll call - let you know what to do next."

Heather nodded. "Of course," she said.

Twenty minutes after Beck left, the bedroom door cautiously opened. The three adults turned to look at the young girl hesitating in the doorway. The silence seemed to grow and become a living thing.

Finally Mimi gently said, "You can come out, if you want."

Elje hesitantly walked into the kitchen, looking around.

"Where's Papa Ed?" she asked.

"He's gone back to Jericho," Heather carefully replied. "He's gone to talk to your mom."

"Does she _have_ to know about me?"

Heather frowned. "You don't want to see your mother?"

Elje vigorously shook her head. "She left me - left me all alone in Santa Fe. She saw me - and she just turned and left!"

Heather stared at her, the blood draining from her face. "She - there was a riot over food - she thought you'd been killed," she whispered through bloodless lips.

"There were no riots," Elje said flatly, sitting at the table. "When the Attacks happened, it was just me and Mom in Santa Fe. Her parents were in Houston; my dad and his parents were in Arizona. About two weeks after the Attacks, Mom went out looking for food and never came back. I thought she'd been killed. I was so scared - but I had to find food, so I started going out of the house, scavenging and trying not to have anyone notice me. I saw her about two weeks after she left me - I _saw_ her - she saw me - she _recognized_ me - then she _turned and walked away_! From me! Her daughter! _No!_ No, I don't want to see her!"

Elje stopped, breathing heavily, her eyes wide - but no tears. It was a vastly different reaction than when she'd thrown herself into Beck's arms. Heather felt a chill go down her spine and wondered if they needed to protect the mother more than the daughter.

Heather swallowed with difficulty. "He's going to call after he talks to Leyna. He didn't want her knowing about you until he could -" she hesitated and bit her lip.

"Until he could check my story?" Elje said bitterly.

The adults exchanged glances and Heather shook her head. "No," she said. "Until he could check _hers_."

 _*/*/*/*_

"Leyna," Beck said carefully, "I just received a phone call from a major in Michigan. There's a girl there going by the name of Elje Beck."

Leyna stared at him with wide, guileless eyes. "She's lying," she said flatly.

"Are you _sure_?"

"I told you - she never made it out of Santa Fe."

"You know that for _sure_?" Beck pressed.

"Of course! Eddie -" Leyna frowned at him.

"Leyna," Beck said quietly, "I need to know. What - when did you last see Elje?"

Leyna sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I've told you before - we'd gone to find food. I should have left her behind with her grandparents, I know, but they'd said they'd provide more if there were children. So, I took Elje with me. There wasn't enough food and people began to panic. Fights broke out all around us, and - and I tried to get us away from there but she was torn from me. I saw her go down and I was swept away by the crowd. By the time I got back -"

Leyna pressed a trembling hand against her lips as two tears seeped out from under her lashes. " _Eddie_ ," she whispered, agonized.

Beck fought the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she finally told him the truth - for probably the first time since she'd arrived in Jericho.

"Leyna," he said, his voice hard. "I have to know. Did you touch her? Did you try to resuscitate her?"

Leyna stared at him in disbelief. "Of course I tried to save her! _Yes_ , I touched her! I held her in my arms - her blood on my hands. I did all I could! You have no _right_ to keep hounding me about Elje's death! _You weren't there_!" She threw her hands up and stood, knocking her chair over in her agitation. "Elje's dead - so you can just leave this woman - girl - whoever it is using Elje's name - in Michigan - she's a liar!"

*/*/*/*

Beck brooded.

He listened to the ringing on the other end of the line. Stanley answered and quickly put Heather on the phone when Beck asked for her.

"What happened?" she asked.

Beck took a slow, deep breath, then, "She lied."


	4. Part Four: Rewards and Punishments

**Part Four: Rewards and Punishments**

 _Now - July 2009_

Beck wasn't surprised when the knock came at his door a couple hours after he talked to Heather and then to Elje. He knew, even before he opened the door, that it was Heather. He let her in without a word.

She looked at him anxiously.

"I just wanted to check on you," she said.

"I know why you're here," he said, his voice low and silky, his eyes burning as he looked at her.

He watched her throat as she swallowed convulsively while he glided towards her.

"Beck," she protested weakly before he caught her close and covered her mouth with his.

The kiss was savage, hot, and hungry, tinged with desperation and rage. Heather was overwhelmed by both her own physical desire for him and her emotional need to somehow comfort him, to ease his pain. She melted into him without hesitation, wrapping her arms around his neck as she responded, matching his passion with her own. She pressed closer against him. She softly cried out in protest then moaned in pleasure when he wrenched his mouth from hers and trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck, his tongue swirling patterns against her skin that made her knees buckle, and sharp, electric shocks rocket through her body. She involuntarily dug her nails into his shoulders as she arched against him, panting and making soft, mewling noises as he slid one hand under her shirt, roughly shoved her bra out of the way and cupped her breast in his palm.

The touch of his hand against her naked skin shocked her out of her sensual haze.

"Wait, wait, wait," she panted, pushing herself away from him. He blinked at her in surprise. "I d-didn't come here for this," she said, turning her back as she readjusted her clothing.

"No?" he asked, his own breathing rapid, his eyes glittering dangerously.

Heather looked at him over her shoulder as she finished tugging her clothes back into place. She turned to face him, her colour high, her eyes dark. Her body still thrummed with sexual energy, almost screaming at her to get back to what they'd been doing. She ignored it with an effort, and looked at him with a frown, searching his face for some clue as to what he was thinking.

"No," she said firmly. "I came to check on you, make sure you're okay after - after today."

Beck shrugged and stepped towards her. Heather stepped back. He raised an amused eyebrow. "I appreciate the concern," he purred, taking another step towards her. She stepped back again. "But why are you afraid of me?"

"I'm not afraid of you," Heather responded indignantly but kept backing away from his approach. For a moment she wondered just how silly she looked being basically chased around the living room.

"Then stand still," he urged persuasively.

Heather swallowed hard. "N-no." It sounded weak to her own ears, and her entire body was begging her to stop running - begging her to, in fact, meet him more than halfway. She didn't want to listen to her voice of reason; she wanted to pounce and bear him down to the floor right here and make love to him with all the love, desire and pure lust that had been building for the last few years.

But it wasn't the time.

"No," she repeated more firmly.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not going to be a revenge fuck." Heather's eyes widened, appalled at what she'd just said.

Beck stopped dead in his tracks, his amusement instantly erased by enraged disbelief. " _What_?" he demanded harshly.

Heather lifted her chin. "You're still a married man, even if separated. You found out she was betraying our town and our President, and today you discovered she lied - in the most horrific way - about what happened to your stepdaughter. You're angry and hurt and - and - confused. What better way to try and hurt her than to have sex with another woman, especially one you...you..." Heather stuttered to a stop, her face burning with embarrassment as she realized she'd been about to claim feelings on his part he'd never actually said.

"Love?"

She flinched at the harsh, sharp, sarcastic tone in his voice, and Beck was suddenly, deeply ashamed. He sighed, his rage draining out of him, leaving only exhaustion and a bone-deep sadness behind.

"I do, you know," he said gently and quirked a slight smile as Heather's gaze flew to his. "Love you, I mean."

Heather's guileless blue eyes filled with tears. Her bottom lip trembled and Beck took a step towards her, wanting to kiss that tremble away, to wipe away her tears. To wrap her in his arms and protect her from the world. And from him sometimes too, he thought ruefully.

He took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he said, "and you're right. Tonight... _is_ the wrong night for us to make love for the first time. But it would never - _never_ \- be a revenge fuck."

Heather winced. "I'm sorry. I don't even know where that came from."

Beck laughed. "Well, it definitely got my attention. Come on," he said, gesturing to the couch, "have a seat, and I'll see what I've got to drink. We'll pretend the last ten minutes never happened."

"All of them?" she teased weakly.

He grinned at her. "We-ell, how about the last three minutes never happened? The first five or so are _well_ worth remembering."

Heather shivered as the heat of his voice stroked over her skin. "Yeah..." she breathed.

"Come on. Let's sit and talk for a few minutes. I promise I'll let you leave without trying to persuade you to stay."

"I - I should really leave now."

He gave her knowing look. "Before you can convince yourself otherwise?"

"Yeah," she breathed again. They stared at each other in suspended silence.

"So...I should go," Heather said finally. But she didn't look away from him, her eyes wide and clear and bottomless, and filled with longing. He couldn't look away.

"Yes," he nodded, his voice low and husky.

Neither moved for another breathless moment - then they crashed together.

It was a blur of sensations and sounds and scents, a kaleidoscope of textures. Hard muscles and soft skin; sweat and heat; seeking tongues and caressing hands. It was his scent, her scent and the scent they created together. It was urgent words and soft noises and laughter. It was bumped noses, clumsy hands, awkward moments and tangled hair. It was earthy and primal and the most basic of acts.

It was beautiful.

And _right_.

*/*/*/*

Beck and Heather sat at the kitchen table, both wearing boxers and t-shirts, eating ice cream from the container. Beck watched, fascinated, as Heather took another spoonful, closed her eyes and hummed in bliss.

His body stirred in response and he had sudden visions of doing things with ice cream he'd never actually considered before.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. " _Where_ ," she sighed, "did you get ice cream?"

Beck tucked his thoughts away for later and forced himself to focus.

"Gail," he replied around a hasty spoonful. "I'm her guinea pig. I guess you are, too, now."

Heather took another spoonful and savored it, then said, "It's awesome."

They shared the ice cream in companionable silence then Heather said, "What are you gonna do?"

Beck sighed and shook his head, not quite looking at her. "I wish I knew."

He leaned back, tapping his spoon handle on the table.

"Hawkins tells me he's close to discovering Leyna's - I don't know...employers? Friends?"

Heather frowned and Beck smiled at the wrinkle in the middle of her forehead.

"How can Hawkins do that?" Heather asked. "And be so sure?"

Beck shrugged. "I don't know. And I don't ask. But I trust him to do what he says."

"Why?"

"Because he found you like he promised he would."

Heather's eyes flew to his then quickly away.

"He found Tomarchio and Valente," she muttered, ate her spoonful of ice cream and put the spoon on the table.

"Them, too," Beck shrugged. "But I trust him because he promised me he'd get you back. He delivered on that promise. I trust him to deliver on this one, too."

Heather shifted uncomfortably. She didn't like to think about those few days she was in ASA custody. She liked talking about them even less. She shook her head, picked up her spoon and scooped another bit of ice cream.

"What about Elje?" She kept her eyes trained on the ice cream in her spoon. "And what about us?"

"Elje - I want to keep her hidden from Leyna until we can - I don't even know. Leyna said she held Elje's body, that she tried to save her and failed - and I -" he closed his eyes, shook his head, then looked ruefully at her. "I can't even fathom how she could lie to me like that. I want to believe there's some truth in what she says because otherwise..."

He shook his head again.

"When the Attacks happened, we'd been married for six years, known each other for seven. I - I honestly would have thrown you out the door if you'd told me Leyna would someday leave her ten-year-old daughter to fend for herself in the most horrendous of conditions. That she would lie to me about what happened to Elje, and continue to lie even with the possibility of being found out. That she - " he hesitated, then continued, "that she didn't love me enough to look for me - that, in fact, she in all likelihood actively worked to avoid being found by me. There's no way in hell I would have believed you. That's simply not the Leyna I knew."

Heather watched him with sympathetic eyes. "Maybe - maybe something snapped in her mind. You know, because of the Attacks," she suggested. "Maybe she's literally gone crazy."

Beck shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe this is who she really was all along." He shook his head. "Doesn't matter." He gave a determined smile. "So, Elje. Like I explained to her on the phone, I left her at Stanley and Mimi's tonight because I didn't want word getting back to Leyna that I'd left Jericho so late and returned with a young girl in tow. I want Elje in Jericho, but I can't have her with me, not if I want to keep her presence secret from Leyna. Leyna still drops by regularly and until we know exactly who she's working with, that's not going to change for a few days - even weeks." He shrugged. "We'll have the group meet us out at Stanley and Mimi's tomorrow night and we'll figure something out."

Heather nodded.

"As for us, I'd like to simply tell her about us and be done."

Heather gave him a twisted smile. "Never waste a potential resource," she reminded him.

"Exactly," he nodded. He wordlessly asked Heather if she wanted more ice cream. She shook her head. He replaced the cover on the container and returned it to the freezer and put the dirty spoons in the sink. He turned around to look at her, leaning against the cupboard, his arms crossed.

"I definitely don't want to go back to the way things were before tonight."

She blushed and smiled shyly at his appreciative look.

He suddenly smiled a wicked smile. "Well, you did once say you'd have to find yourself a secret lover," he said.

She frowned at him, puzzled, until she remembered the conversation at Christmas. She laughed. She stood and went to him, slipping her arms around his waist and leaning into him. He rested his hands on her hips.

"But what will we do once it's no longer secret? I mean, will it still be as thrilling?" she teased.

"Well, I do have some ideas about ice cream..." He grinned at her, tugging her closer, his hands smoothing around her hips.

She leaned back, confusion on her face. " _Ice cream_?"

He kissed her. "You'll find out," he promised, and kissed her again.

*/*/*/*

Heather's heart clenched in sympathy for the wary thirteen-year-old sitting beside Beck, staring at the crowd of people surrounding them in Stanley and Mimi's living room.

The last of them had just arrived - Jake, Emily, Gail and baby JJ - and had been introduced to Elje. Elje was tensely coiled and Heather got the impression she was ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Heather thought she was like a wild animal, always on the lookout for danger. She wondered what Elje had been through and how she'd managed to survive for the last few years.

Gail, of course, moved first. She approached Elje with a smile and held out her hand. "Welcome to Jericho," Gail said.

Elje cautiously shook Gail's hand.

That broke the ice and everyone started to babble, asking questions and trying to determine what this meant in terms of Leyna and stories she'd told Beck. Elje's eyes kept getting bigger as she listened.

Finally the room fell silent and they focused their attention on Beck and Hawkins.

"Leyna can't find out about Elje," Beck said flatly. "Not yet, anyway."

"Agreed," Hawkins said.

"I want her in Jericho," Beck continued, "but she can't live with me."

"I'm not sure if being in Jericho is the best place for her," Hawkins responded.

Beck straightened, glaring at the other man.

"Think about it," Hawkins said, shifting his all-knowing gaze to Elje. "You can't be expected to stay inside for what may be weeks," he said to her. "You'd go crazy - and for good reason."

"She can stay with me," Gail said.

Hawkins turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Doesn't change -"

"No," Gail interrupted. "At the ranch."

Everyone considered this in silence.

"It's secure," Beck said.

"Isolated," Hawkins agreed.

"Leyna's never been there," Gail added. "I doubt she even knows it exists."

Beck turned to Elje. "What do you think?"

"I won't have to be worried about seeing my mom?"

"No," Beck assured her. "And you'll be able to leave the house."

"Will I see you?" Elje asked a little plaintively.

He hugged her close. "As often as I can get out there. But I can't change my routine too much or too suddenly - just in case Leyna's paying attention."

"We have an added complication," Hawkins added.

Beck glanced at him, puzzled.

"I'll explain later," he said.

Beck turned back to Elje, his eyebrows raised in question.

Elje bit her lip. "Do I have a choice?" she asked.

"I'd rather have you in Jericho," Beck said, "but Hawkins' right. You'd basically be under house arrest."

"Why can't you just tell my - Leyna - I'm here and I don't want to see her?"

Beck sighed. "It's a bit complicated," he said, "but we're trying to find some information and Leyna's the key to it. If I tell her you're here and that I know she lied to me about you, then - well. I can't pretend that's okay. And our entire mission is put into jeopardy."

Elje considered him thoughtfully with an expression on her face that told him this was what she'd been expecting all along. Suddenly, he couldn't do it. He couldn't put the mission before her happiness and security.

"I can tell her you're here," he blurted. "We can find another way to get the information." He looked hard at Hawkins. "Can't we."

Hawkins cocked his head to one side as he calmly met Beck's challenging glare. Then he smiled. Not his predator's smile, but his human one. He turned to Elje and nodded. "If that's what you want," he said.

She bit her lip and hesitated. Then she shook her head. "No. I'll go to Gail's."

Beck hugged her. "We've finally restored cell phone service," he said. "I'll get one for you and we'll talk every day, okay? And I'll be out to see you as often as I can."

She nodded into his shoulder.

Beck wondered if she believed him.

*/*/*/*

Beck and Hawkins' eyes never wavered from the President's.

"You told me we wouldn't be hiding. Remember?" she demanded. "When we were escaping from Columbus and we could see the east burning all around us? You said we'd go to Jericho - and we wouldn't be hiding. Well, what have we been doing these last eighteen months? You barely let me outside the walls - the members of congress are too scared to leave Jericho, because they see I'm too scared to leave Jericho. It has to stop!"

"We're not hiding, ma'am," Hawkins replied, "and you've been outside Jericho as often as possible. Thanks to the UN, you're now going to have a weekly address on TV and radio. You've been to almost every town or region of Kansas."

"Kansas isn't the entire country. The ASA will never be defeated if we keep me and every President after me stuck in a walled city!"

"Ma'am," Beck interjected, "we don't intend for this to last forever."

"No? Well, it shows no signs of changing." She glared at both them. "We all know we can't continue this way. We'll be in another civil war before we know it if I don't get out in front of the people and start claiming this country as my own. Considering I wasn't actually elected to this office, it's something we should have been doing sooner rather than later. We need to change things not just for me but for all the Presidents after me."

Beck glanced at Hawkins then sighed. "What do you propose, ma'am?"

"A tour of the country. The _entire_ country. One that takes me to every state. One that requires me to be outside of Jericho for more than a few hours. One that brings me in contact with people who probably haven't got a clue who I am."

"Ma'am," Hawkins cautioned, "that may not be a good idea."

She waved away his words. "Oh, send as many military people as you think are necessary. Pave the way however you see fit - within reason - but this is going to happen. And it's going to happen soon." She glared hard at them. "As soon as you can arrange it, in fact."

*/*/*/*

"Madam President," Beck said, "I wish you'd reconsider."

The President shook her head. "We've set the itinerary," she said firmly. "No more hiding."

Beck sighed and nodded. "Yes, ma'am. As you've agreed, no place on the itinerary will know you're arriving until the day before we get there. We leave on July 30th. There'll be four convoys leaving Jericho at the same time - none of the assigned soldiers know the true reason why. Neither do your guards. No one will know which route they'll be taking until that morning and it will be determined by drawing lots. No one, Madam President, is to know you're leaving Jericho on that date."

"No one?" the President asked skeptically. "Not even Heather?"

" _No one_ , Madam President. Not because I don't trust Heather, but because the fewer people who know, the less chance there is of your plans being accidentally leaked outside Jericho."

The President considered him thoughtfully. "I suspect," she said slowly, "there are things you haven't been telling me."

Beck remained expressionless.

She considered him for another moment then nodded. "Agreed," she said. "But Major, there's no "we" here. You're not coming with me."

Beck's jaw dropped, then he rallied. "Ma'am -"

"Don't "ma'am" me. You're not going with me. This isn't up for debate. I'm speaking now as your commander-in-chief."

Beck frowned. "What's going on?" he demanded.

The President arrogantly stared back. "Your presence is unnecessary. You're sending your best soldiers, after all, and besides, you're needed here." She softened. "Really, Major. You're needed here."

Beck slowly nodded and wondered what he was missing.

*/*/*/*

Heather thoughtfully watched the President as she drank tea in Heather's garage.

The President was obviously distracted, something weighing heavy on her mind.

"Can you talk about it?" Heather finally asked after several minutes of disjointed conversation, interspersed with long moments of thoughtful silence.

The President smiled guiltily at her. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking...you know, I was never elected, Heather. I mean, not ever, not just to the Presidency. My predecessor appointed me to my position." She shook her head. "I was never meant to be here, and I wish..." she sighed. "I wish people would stop treating me like I somehow deserve the title of President." She stared off into space. "Sometimes, if I think about it too much, I have to wonder how what we're doing is any different than the ASA."

"You're a symbol, ma'am," Heather replied seriously. "Whether you like it or not - whether you were elected or not - you're the President. The only President with any legitimate claim to the title." She shook her head. "And if you think the symbolism isn't more important than the person, or the circumstances of attaining office, then you're kidding yourself."

"But how am I any different than Tomarchio?" the President insisted. "How is what we're doing any different than what the ASA did?"

"We're the good guys," Heather replied simply.

The President laughed. "Now who's kidding herself? We're not the good guys to everybody." She considered Heather thoughtfully, her head cocked to one side. "Why did you do what you did?" she asked suddenly.

Heather stared, startled. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," the President said. "The ASA. Tomarchio. The end of the war.."

"How do you -?"

"I may be kidding myself, but I know how to live in a small town. It's no secret, you know. Not in Jericho, anyway." She looked at Heather with sympathetically curious eyes. "Would you tell me about it?"

Heather hesitated.

"Please?" the President asked, and Heather began to speak.

*/*/*/*

Until they came for her, she hadn't really thought it would work. She hadn't truly believed Hawkins' contention that the powers that be in the ASA would be so desperate for information about Beck that they would waste resources to capture her.

She was wrong. Obviously. And now she had to believe Hawkins' plan would work – but it was _Hawkins_. Everything would probably happen exactly as he'd said it would if she could only play her part correctly. Not panic. Not freeze.

Not betray them - not betray Beck.

The battle was short - just vicious enough to convince Ravenwood she hadn't simply been given to them. She didn't fight at all. It was hard to struggle with a half-dozen high-powered weapons pointed in her direction. It was a desperate gamble that the misinformation Hawkins had planted about Heather's knowledge of Beck and his plans would keep her alive until she reached her objective. If the gamble failed, then Heather would most likely be summarily tortured and executed - perhaps publicly to serve as an example of what happened to traitors, but more likely in the dark of night, far from prying eyes.

But Hawkins had done his job well. The rumors and innuendo he'd fostered had created the conviction that Heather knew far more about Beck's plans and strategies than she truly did. That she knew enough to make her more valuable to the ASA if she was alive than if she was dead. Hawkins had also coached her how to convince those who held her that she was willing to turn on Beck, for a price. How to convince them she would only speak to someone in authority, someone close to President Tomarchio, someone who could offer a deal endorsed by the president himself.

During... _interrogation_ , she implied Beck's network was far-reaching into the ASA's military and there was only one person Heather could truly trust to be on the ASA's side - but she never once specifically asked to see President Tomarchio.

In the end, they took her right to him. Perhaps that had been their intent all along. If they couldn't bring him Beck, they'd bring him Beck's best known civilian ally during the time he was in Jericho - the time he used to gather a coalition of their own soldiers to use against them.

By the time they ushered her into the President's presence, she was battered and bruised, barely recognizable. By some miracle, they hadn't actually broken any bones and they hadn't raped her. She thought it was because she'd indicated from the beginning she was willing to barter for her life by providing information to the right person. Much later, when she was safely back in Jericho under the care of her friends, she learned it was because Hawkins' informants were doing their best to follow and protect her - at least until she led them to President Tomarchio.

Later still, she came to understand her treatment at the hands of Ravenwood. They were losing a war they'd expected to be easy, and she was as close as those particular men were likely to get to the man who had tipped the scales in favor of their enemies. She knew it was a miracle they hadn't killed her outright.

The network of informants and spies that Hawkins and others had carefully cultivated did their jobs well.

Two days after her meeting with Tomarchio, Jake and Hawkins' friend Chavez broke her out of her prison. That same day the final battles of the war began. She didn't know for sure until five days later that Tomarchio had been eliminated, the ASA shattered, and the remnants of the ASA, J&R and Ravenwood sent on the run. It was three weeks after that that the final, suicidal attack by the ASA began - the attack that left the East in ruins and resulted in the President setting up residence in Jericho.

*/*/*/*

Heather fell silent.

"Thank you for telling me," the President said softly.

Heather nodded but couldn't quite look at her.

"That took a lot of courage," the President said, "and a lot of trust that the people who promised to rescue you would be able to do so."

Heather smiled crookedly. "It was Hawkins. Sometimes it seems like he can perform miracles."

The President nodded. "Still, it was your courage that made the plan work." She seemed to come to some decision, her distracted air dissipating as she straightened in her chair. "Thank you for telling me," she said again. "It - well. It was...inspiring."

Heather frowned at the President's words.

"I have to go," the President said and rose to her feet. "Thank you, as always, for the tea and company. Next time, we won't talk about anything ASA related. I promise."

Now it was Heather's turn to be distracted as she nodded and walked the President to the door.

*/*/*/*

Heather was walking to Bailey's when she saw the soldiers swarming out of the sheriff's office in full battle armor. Beck was barking orders on the phone as he hurried into the humvee.

He never saw her.

She hurried to the sheriff's office, lunch forgotten and burst into the ordered chaos of mobilizing for battle. She grabbed the first person she saw.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Presidential convoy is under attack," the young soldier said then rushed off, leaving Heather feeling like the earth had just opened up beneath her feet.

*/*/*/*

There was no word for what felt like days but was really only a few hours. Hawkins had left with the army while Jake mobilized the Rangers both within and outside Jericho. They quickly implemented one of their contingency plans, bringing everyone within a five mile radius into town, which included Gail and Elje. Once past the checkpoint, Elje was smuggled to Jake and Emily's house where they kept her away from prying eyes.

In less than an hour, everyone was in position, with government officials and non-combatants in underground bunkers and others either manning the perimeter or stationed in buildings to eliminate enemy soldiers if the perimeter was breached. They were also assigned to bunkers if they were attacked by artillery, but everyone knew they had almost no chance of getting to safety if that happened.

They were prepared. They were ready.

They waited.

*/*/*/*

No one quite believed the order to stand down when it came. They eased their vigilance but stayed at their posts, although those in the bunkers were allowed to leave. It wasn't until the humvees and helicopters returned and people were recognized that anyone gave up their positions.

Heather watched from the top of the tallest building in town as humvees pulled up to the med-center. She only truly relaxed when she saw Hawkins and Beck assist the President into the building. She lowered her binoculars and turned to the soldier beside her. "The President's back."

The soldier nodded, and they made their way down the stairs.

Heather rushed into the med-center and saw Hawkins, Beck and Jake standing in the waiting room, talking quietly.

"How could they have known?" Jake hissed.

Beck and Hawkins looked even more grim. "That's what we intend to find out," Hawkins said.

"What happened?" Heather asked. "What - why was the President outside of Jericho? Where was she going?"

The three men exchanged glances then pulled her further aside.

"She was going on a tour of the country," Beck said. "Top secret; only three of us knew. Hawkins, me and the President. No one else knew - not her guards, not her driver, not the towns and cities she'd decided to visit - not even Jake."

Heather stared at him. "Then - this was just random? They saw the convoy and decided to take the chance to attack us?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Hawkins said grimly, "except they had a hell of lot of fighters if they just stumbled upon one of our convoys."

"But how could it have been planned?" Heather demanded. "Only you and Beck knew - and I know the two of you wouldn't tell anyone else."

Beck was frowning furiously down the hall towards the treatment room where Kenchy was examining the President.

"No," he replied. "There were three of us."

*/*/*/*

The President looked up with a weary sigh as Beck entered the hospital room.

"Did you get some of them?" she asked. "Alive, I mean."

Beck gently closed the door then took a seat beside her bed.

"Was that the point of this little exercise?" he asked gently. "So we could capture some of our enemies alive?"

The President shrugged, staring off into the distance. "Or kill a large number of them. They were like ghosts, Major. Striking and disappearing without a trace. First Heather - and you and Heather when it should have been impossible to know where you were going or what route you were using to get back. Tell me, how many convoys have been hit? How many soldiers have been wounded or killed? And while they kept up the pressure, the more you and Hawkins hid me from the outside world. The deeper you hid me, the more they tried to get to me, and the more people died or were hurt because of it. And we never seemed able to capture anybody."

She straightened her shoulders and squarely met his eyes. "I understand what you and Hawkins and everyone were trying to do. I understand why. But the cycle had to be broken, and the only way I could to do that was to -"

"Put yourself at risk," Beck said.

She smiled slightly. "Well, to give them a precious enough target that they'd risk almost anything to get to it. The only thing I could think of that fit that description was me."

Beck shook his head. "You should have told us."

"You should have told _me_ ," she replied quietly. He opened his mouth to speak but she forestalled him with a wave of her hand. "I understand. You and Hawkins - especially Hawkins - were trying to give me plausible deniability if anything went wrong." There was slight bitterness to her smile. "You were - again - trying to protect me."

"Ma'am," Beck began.

"Under the circumstances - call me Rebekkah," she said a little plaintively.

Beck hesitated, frowning, wondering if there was something more than the President's brush with death that was causing this contemplative and rather lonely reaction in her. "Ma'am," he said, "you're our President. The office must be protected. You're also my friend - and I would never put you in harm's way or let anyone hurt you."

"You did it to Heather."

Beck leaned back and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know it was her when I agreed to the plan. And like you, she took it upon herself..." he stopped. "Were you feeling somehow less worthy than Heather?" he asked, slightly teasing, slightly shocked.

The President shook her head. "More cowardly," she clarified. "I'd thought of using myself as bait months ago - and couldn't seem to find the courage to make it happen." She glanced at Beck, anguished. "How many of your soldiers were hurt or died because I couldn't bring myself to do what needed to be done?"

"You're President, not God...Rebekkah," Beck said quietly. She smiled slowly in thanks. "There was no guarantee your plan would work. You could have been killed and all of them could have escaped. They might have assumed it was a trap and never attacked at all." He frowned. "That's why I'm here, actually. How did they find out? Who did you tell?"

The President sighed then steadily met his eyes.

"Leyna."

*/*/*/*

Leyna defiantly sneered at Beck through the bars of her cell.

Beck's face was carefully expressionless although his eyes blazed with anger.

They'd been glaring at each other in tense silence for a long time. Finally Beck began to speak.

"You've always thought I was weak, when all I ever wanted was to protect you from the ugliness of my job - from the ruthless things I did - from the horror and the blood. I used to think you and Elje were the one good spot in my life, the one piece of innocence I could still touch. I didn't want to be a colonel or general - so then I was stupid. I gave you anything you wanted - did everything you wanted - and again I was weak.

"Now here we stand. I've known about your spying for weeks. We've been following the trail back to whoever was pulling your strings. We know everything - except what you were getting out of it. What was it? Or were you doing it out of loyalty to the ASA or Ravenwood? Were you following what you believed to be a higher calling?"

"You just don't get it, do you, Eddie? You and your - your _duty_ \- your _honor_. I don't have any particular beef against the President - hell, I don't even have any particular anger towards you! If you hadn't ended up next to the President, you never would have seen me again and you could have lived your life as you pleased and I wouldn't have known - or cared. I'm here because of personal gain, Eddie. That's all. I originally intended to simply betray them once I was here - after all, how much more could they promise me when you were sitting right next to what passes for power in this hell-hole we used to call our country? That's all it was about. Only then I found out you weren't quite as close to the President as I'd thought. Not nearly as powerful. And no matter how I tried, I couldn't seem to get you to move any closer to where I wanted you to be. So I simply chose the alternative."

"What on earth could they have promised you?" Beck asked quietly.

Leyna smiled. "A place in their new capital. Beside their new president. No matter who that person might be."

"And you believed them?" Beck scoffed.

Leyna laughed. "I didn't care. Besides, doing what they wanted kept me in small luxuries - smuggled in at great risk, I might add."

Beck frowned.

"Good wine, nice clothes, exotic food. Well...exotic now. I have to admit, I was very glad when we split because it was getting quite tedious to have all those wonderful things and not being able to do anything with them." Leyna looked at him and mockingly shook her head. "You wouldn't understand."

"No," Beck said faintly. "No, I wouldn't."

He shook his head and said emotionlessly, "You betrayed the President. You betrayed Jericho. You betrayed me. By rights, I should have you executed. But you were my wife and the mother to the girl I considered my own. So you'll be escorted from Jericho instead. We'll give you some food. Water. No weapon. No vehicle."

" _What_? What about the road gangs?" she squawked.

"They can take of themselves," Beck shrugged.

He turned and walked away.

*/*/*/*

Beck didn't even glance around when he sensed Heather's presence behind him.

"Do you think I'm weak?" he asked quietly, looking down at his hands gripping the glass of scotch like a lifeline. It was the same damn bottle, he thought inconsequentially. The same damn bottle he'd cracked when he'd placed his fate in the hands of his officers. No wonder he couldn't touch the stuff in happier times - it tasted too much like bitterness and fear and shame.

Heather walked around to face him but he refused to look at her.

"No," she said softly. "I think...you love too much."

Beck gave a bitter, choked half-laugh. "Which is a kind way of saying I'm stupid." He briefly glanced at her and quickly looked away. He couldn't stand to see pity in her eyes.

She knelt down in front of him and tried to get him to look at her, but he stubbornly refused.

"You're not stupid either," she said firmly.

"I brought her right into the heart of Jericho. I brought her _right next_ to the President." Now he looked at her, and he gently brushed his fingers across her cheek. "I brought her next to _you._ I knew she'd lied about Elje - and I _still_ let her go."

"She was your wife," Heather said softly. "You loved her."

"I loved my memory of her - which apparently was never the reality of her."

"I don't think even Leyna knew the reality of her - Before, I mean. At least, that's how it seems to me. Now," Heather said briskly, standing up. "Are you about done with your drink?"

Beck stared at her, some of his old arrogance back at the forefront. "And if I'm not? If I'm planning on getting raging drunk tonight?"

"Then I'll take you to Hawkins and Jake. That way if you feel like beating the shit out of somebody - or having the shit beat out of you - they'd be happy to oblige and they'll make sure not to kill you in the bargain."

Beck blinked at her in silence, before a reluctant grin spread across his face. "I don't believe it," he said.

"What?" Heather asked, her forehead wrinkled with a frown. "They're at Bailey's right now -"

"No. I'm actually laughing."

"This is you laughing?" she said skeptically.

"Smiling then."

Heather smiled back then leaned down and kissed him gently. "Come on," she said briskly, "at least you shouldn't be drinking alone."

*/*/*/*

"You were one of the few people to ever throw me off-balance," Hawkins admitted grudgingly. Jake glanced at him in surprise.

Beck gave him a half-smile. He wasn't yet drunk but he could see it from here. "You're a liar - but thanks for the effort."

"It's true," Hawkins insisted. "You never believed a word I told you but your curiosity and desire to know the truth made you play along. You had me pegged as something other than what I pretended to be from the moment you laid eyes on me." Hawkins considered him carefully. "But when it comes to women - you're completely fucked."

Both Beck and Jake choked on their drinks. Hawkins gave them a moment to regain their breaths.

"It's true," Hawkins continued after they stopped coughing. "You want to believe them. You want to put them on a pedestal out of harm's way and pretend they never lie, never get their hands dirty, never do the wrong thing for the right reasons - or the right thing for the wrong reasons."

Beck stared at him in silence. "What do I do about it?" he finally asked.

"Nothing," Hawkins shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "I never said it was a bad thing."

*/*/*/*

 _Now - May 2010_

The night was warm and calm, cloudless. Even in the moonlight, the stars were brilliant and appeared so close, Heather felt she could simply reach through the windows and pluck them from the sky. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps and smiled in the semi-darkness as Beck approached her. She thought he looked remarkably handsome in his dark suit and tie, although the effect was slightly marred by the two plates of cake and two beer he carried as he made his way towards her in the dim light of the anteroom.

She smiled as he came to a stop by her side and took the beer and cake he offered. He settled himself beside her and they ate for a moment in silence.

"Still not the best combination," Beck said thoughtfully.

Heather shook her head. "But still better than Stanley's wine," she said.

Beck smiled. "To be fair, he's improved a lot."

"Well, there's no way he could have gotten worse."

Beck laughed.

"So," he said casually, "why are you sitting in here by yourself?" He nodded towards the noisy party behind them. "You're missing all the fun."

"I just wanted a break," Heather shrugged, concentrating on her cake.

"It's not because you're having second thoughts?"

"A little late for that if I were," she teased. She glanced down at the simple gold band on her left hand. She hoped someday the President would tell her the story behind it. She met his eyes with a smile. "No second thoughts," she said softly, her eyes luminous in the moonlight.

Beck smiled slowly at her. "Me neither," he said, and the warm silken honey of his voice stroked across her nerve endings and she sighed with pleasure.

The band started playing again behind them, a slow ballad. Beck removed the empty plate from her hands, pulled her to her feet and into his arms. They danced together in the moonlight, her head resting on his shoulder. He pulled away a little to look at her.

"A kiss and a dance with a beautiful woman," he reminded her.

She smiled sweetly at him, all of her love and joy shining in her eyes, and kissed him.

###


End file.
